#im concocting one rn

[rasticore]

so Angel Hare kinda implies there's a whole network of sorts of tv shows that are covers for angels to help struggling people, mainly kids. That feels like an untapped gold mine for fan characters

[firestorm09890]

FUCK what I said about the majority of significant changes to dialogue in Re:CoM being to adjust Axel's characterization, the most egregious change is actually this

(GBA CoM)

(Re:CoM)

if I had to guess, the reason for this change was because in GBA CoM, The Superior was a spooky, unknown being at the head of this Organization we had very little knowledge on, and for Vexen, the guy who runs his mouth constantly about how much better he is than the others, to be terrified of him, he must be some pretty scary dude. But then after kh2 we know him, it's Xemnas, he's very dramatic, he likes to talk to the moon, and the effect of your mind filling in the gaps about what "The Superior" must be like is gone. So it wasn't really necessary anymore, right?

(rest under cut because it's long)

Except... the way they changed it is so weird. In the GBA version, what's happening is pretty clear:

Marluxia tells Vexen that his project is a failure

Vexen demonstrates that he does not give a shit about Marluxia's opinion

he does care very much about The Superior's opinion, though, and Marluxia uses this to blackmail him into eliminating Sora- an action which is nonsensical, as the entire point of what they're doing needs Sora alive, making it clear to everyone in the room that he is deliberately sending Vexen to die

and then after that, when Vexen shows up to fight Sora, he goes "if you want to fight me for real you've gotta do it in the memories from the other side of your heart lol bye" and Sora goes "huh? other side?" and then it cuts to a scene on the top floor:

and then this gets more into subtext but here, Vexen has realized he's totally fucked and his only hope is to mess directly with Marluxia's plans (well, they were the Organization's plans, but it's pretty obvious by now Marluxia's abusing his power for his own purposes) by giving Sora more information than he should know. This does get the traitor gang worried enough to send Axel to go kill him (as opposed to just letting Sora take care of him, which was presumably the original plan)- he very specifically cuts Vexen off to keep him from saying too much (this is retained between the original and the remake)

Anyway, what happens in Re:CoM sort of follows the same order of events, but everything is changed slightly in a way that just makes things more confusing.

Marluxia tells Vexen his project is a failure and Vexen demonstrates that he doesn't give a shit about Marluxia's opinion, as before

Marluxia threatens Vexen with a weapon, rather than threatening to tell the Superior

this, notably, does not seem to faze Vexen very much. he continues to run his mouth while having the scythe pointed at him.

Xemnas is still leveraged- Marluxia points out it was the Superior who entrusted him with the castle

...even though reasonably Vexen would already be aware of this, and has still demonstrated that he has zero respect for Marluxia despite it

the lines about betraying the Organization being a capital crime are retained, probably because it's super relevant later, but then that line of thinking is abandoned in favor of Marluxia and Larxene just taunting Vexen instead

The part where Marluxia says "do it. you won't" could be seen as a sort of threat... if not for Axel's line: "You give a challenge like that to Vexen and he'll seriously want to eliminate Sora." It frames it all as though Vexen went to fight Sora out of some sort of pride.

And look, Vexen may have a temper and a superiority complex, but he's not stupid. They're obviously baiting him. Plus, what happened to him seeing himself as above the others and countering things he doesn't like with "well actually I'm higher ranked than you and also you're an idiot"? Is he that insecure in his fighting capabilities? I could deal with characterization changes doing him dirty if it didn't also make no sense in the context of the plot.

So now we have Vexen going to try to kill Sora, something that really makes no sense to do, out of pride. What was the purpose of sending Sora to Twilight Town? Also pride, over the fact that he managed to get that information? Giving the writing the benefit of the doubt, I could say that these nonsensical actions can be explained as evidence that Nobodies can have hearts and people with hearts do strange and rash things, but that just feels like a reach, which is bad because what they had in GBA CoM worked perfectly fine and made sense without any reaching for the "idk emotions make you do strange things" explanation.

It continues. After Vexen gives Sora the Twilight Town card in Re:CoM and Sora wonders about what the "other side" means, this is that version of the conversation the top floor members have:

...what? "If Sora disappears, that would mess up the Organization's plans"? what are you worried about? the only reason Sora would disappear is if Vexen killed him. there's no way they think Vexen being in Twilight Town would give him an advantage, right? they know he's a pathetic fighter. "Vexen has clearly committed a treasonous act against the Organization" HOW? HOW IS IT CLEAR? they don't express any worry about Sora learning too much, up until Axel says "I came to stop you from talking too much" when killing Vexen- and that being there makes it seem like they were worried about Sora learning to much, but if that's the case, why would they replace the perfectly serviceable lines in the above scene? it's just... baffling that they would want to lean into the narrative that Vexen going to kill Sora (which he'd been goaded into doing) is the problem here, because it just makes so little sense compared to what it was originally.

once again giving them the benefit of the doubt: Marluxia's real plan was to take over the Organization, and he saw an easy way to pick off one of the members, so he took it. the motive for stopping Vexen doesn't actually matter.

buuuuut it's the same as with Vexen earlier. Marluxia may be too self-absorbed and power-hungry to notice Axel is scheming against him, but he, too, is an intelligent man. he's plotted for a while, getting into Xemnas's good graces in order to be put in charge of the Castle. this is incredibly sloppy for him. I guess it could be said that getting so close to his goal would make him sloppy, but again, if they'd just left things the way they were in GBA CoM, I wouldn't even have to be saying this

in conclusion: GBA Chain of Memories' intra-Organization strife subplot is so tightly woven with calculated moves on all sides that Re:CoM changing certain things without taking into consideration the consequences makes certain parts of the plot fall flat and become far more confusing than in the original story

[amygdalae]

Forgot abt the joys of turning a V8 into a virgin bloody mary

[inkats]

i tried to do math its so. stupid. i will just spend all of tomorrow when i dont have other classes at ta office hours . so i should sleep now 💭

[mushynka]

Ah, Bloody Hell! (Origins Logan x fem. reader on her period)

Fluff/Comfort/Fun

Tw. Period/blood mentioned. English is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes. Enjoy ❤️ totally not write that couse im on my period rn

The afternoon sun filtered through the blinds, bathing the modest cabin in a warm, golden light. Outside, the forest hummed with the sounds of chirping birds and rustling leaves, but inside, you felt like you were at war with your own body.

Curled in the middle of the bed in a thick blanket cocoon, you groaned as another wave of pain seized your abdomen. It was the kind of pain that made your entire body tense and tears well up in your eyes without warning. Your period cramps, usually manageable, had decided to stage a full-on rebellion this month.

Logan sat on the edge of the bed, his usual tough demeanor softened by the obvious concern etched on his face. The rugged mutant was far more comfortable dealing with threats of the clawed or explosive variety, but the sight of you in such visible discomfort left him feeling helpless.

- You sure there ain’t somethin’ I can do? - Logan asked, his gruff voice laced with worry.

You opened one eye to look at him. His brows were furrowed, and his hands were twitching slightly, as though ready to claw the cramps out of existence if he could.

- Unless you’ve suddenly developed a healing factor for other people, I don’t think there’s much you can do - you muttered, your voice muffled by the pillow.

- Doesn’t mean I’m gonna just sit here and do nothin' - Logan replied, standing up with a determination that made you wince.

The cabin’s small kitchen was suddenly alive with the sound of clanging pots and pans. You frowned, confused by the ruckus but too miserable to get up and investigate. A few minutes later, Logan returned, holding a mug of something steaming and suspiciously thick.

- I made ya tea. Or… somethin’ like tea.

You sat up gingerly, taking the mug from him with some trepidation. - Logan, what’s in this?

He scratched the back of his neck, looking sheepish. - Chamomile. Or it mighta been thyme. And honey. Lots of honey. Thought it might help.

You sniffed the concoction, and your nose crinkled. - It smells like wet grass.

He gave a shrug. - Figured it’s better than doin’ nothin’. Drink up.

Despite your skepticism, you took a small sip, instantly regretting it as the bitter taste coated your tongue. - This is terrible - you said, setting the mug on the nightstand.

- Yeah, well, I’m not exactly a chef - he grumbled, crossing his arms. - So, what’s next? Heat pack? Blanket fort? Tell me what you need, darlin’.

A weak laugh escaped your lips. Logan’s attempts to help were clumsy and borderline ridiculous, but his earnestness warmed your heart. - I appreciate the effort - you said, reaching for his hand. - Blanket fort sound tempting. But what I really need…

You hesitated, the words sticking in your throat. Asking Logan Howlett, grizzled mutant extraordinaire, to go to the store for period supplies felt like a monumental task.

- What? What do you need?- he pressed, leaning closer.

Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself. - I need you to go to the store.

Logan raised an eyebrow. - For what?

- Pads. Or tampons. And maybe some chocolate. And chips. Definitely chips.

His expression shifted from confusion to mild panic. - You want me to… to buy those… things?

- Yes, hun - you said, your cheeks heating up. - I can’t exactly get up and go myself right now.

Logan rubbed his face with both hands, muttering something under his breath about “getting too old for this.” Then, he straightened up. - Alright. Fine. I’ll do it. But you owe me.

- Thank you - you said, your voice soft. - Just get the ones with wings if you’re buying pads. And maybe some ibuprofen.

- Wings? - he repeated, his brow furrowing in confusion. - What the hell kinda pads have wings? What are they doin'? Flying around and gather your-

You groaned, grabbing a pillow to cover your face. - Just ask someone if you need help, okay?

- Yeah, sure, because that won’t be awkward - Logan muttered as he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door.

The fluorescent lights of the grocery store buzzed overhead as Logan wandered the aisles, his expression a mix of determination and discomfort. The small-town store wasn’t particularly busy, but the shelves seemed endless, and he had no idea where to start.

Eventually, he stumbled upon the aisle marked Hygiene. He stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the sheer variety of products. Pads, tampons, liners—some in colorful packaging with phrases like “ultra-thin” and “super absorbent.” Others boasted about being organic or fragrance-free.

- Bloody hell…- Logan muttered, scratching his head.

- Need some help there, bud?

Logan turned to see a young male cashier, probably in his early twenties, grinning at him.

- Uh, yeah - Logan admitted, feeling his face heat up. - I’m… pickin’ up some stuff for my girl. She said pads with wings. That’s a thing, right?

The cashier nodded, clearly trying to suppress a laugh. - Yeah, it’s a thing. Here—these are pretty popular. - He grabbed a pack off the shelf and handed it to Logan.

Logan looked at the package, his lips moving slightly as he read the words overnight protection. - This good?

- Should be. You might wanna grab some tampons too, just in case - the cashier suggested, pointing to another section of the shelf.

By the time he returned to the cabin, arms loaded with bags, you were feeling marginally better but still miserable.

- Got your stuff - Logan announced, setting the bags on the table. - And don’t you dare ask me to do that again.

You peeked into the bags, biting back a laugh when you saw the assortment of snacks and supplies. - Logan, you got overnight pads. I asked about regular ones.

You leaned over to kiss his cheek. - You did good, honey. Thank you.

- Well, excuse me for not bein’ an expert - he shot back, flopping onto the bed beside you.

- Yeah, yeah - he muttered, though his lips twitched into a small smile. - Next time, you’re takin’ me with you and explainin’ all this in real-time.

As you shared a bag of chips, the tension of the day melted away. Logan’s gruff but well-meaning efforts reminded you why you loved him. He might not have all the answers, but he was always willing to try—for you. And that was more than enough.

You chuckled, resting your head on his shoulder. - Deal.

End.

Hope ya'll like this little something. Now I gotta go being miserable period dumpling...

[velarisdusk]

Melted Resolve

Hockey AU | Helion x Reader x Tarquin

Series Masterlist Part 2 <- ✦.⁺.✦.⁺.✦ -> Part 4 - Shattered

word count: 15k (i got carried away i'm so sorry they're so hot) content: [ explicit sexual content, PIV (protected), oral sex (m&f receiving), voyeuristic elements, dirty talk, praise, degradation, light choking, public sex (rooftop setting), threesome, dominance/submission, overstimulation, hair pulling, cum play (kinda?), gagging with panties (sure you can guess where the cum play comes in now huh) | infidelity, alcohol, strong language, emotional conflict ] (if i missed any, and im sure i did, pls lmk) summary: In the aftermath of a triumphant victory, you join the Vipers at a club they frequent downtown for a night of celebration. Yet, the shadow of past secrets lingers, especially with Rhysand and Azriel nearby. As the night unfolds, a secluded rooftop terrace leaves you grappling with exhilarating passion and profound guilt as you confront the weight of your choices. author's note: first, this one is hot so strap in. second, appreciate how nice and fun and carefree things are rn... that's all :) EDIT: WAIT ALSO LMK IF YOU FIND TYPOS PLS ITS SO EMBARRASSING TO FIND THEM A WEEK LATER

The clink of shot glasses hitting the table was a sharp contrast to the thumping bass of the music around you. You felt the burning liquid slide down your throat, its fiery path leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. Everyone around you cheered, the celebratory energy palpable.

Cassian sat beside you, his arm casually draped over the back of your seat. His laughter was warm and infectious as he watched Nesta try not to gag (“I fucking hate cinnamon, you all know that!”). The ambient noise of the club was a constant hum, punctuated by bursts of laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the occasional cheer from the dance floor as a particularly popular song came on. The music was loud, the lyrics indistinct, but the beat infectious, making it impossible to sit still for long. You could feel the vibrations of the bass in your chest, matching the rapid thrum of your heartbeat.

The VIP booth offered a perfect vantage point for watching the dance floor, bathed in a kaleidoscope of colors from the overhead lights. The air was thick with a mix of perfume, sweat, and the faint scent of spilled alcohol — a blend that was uniquely nightlife. Occasionally, a server would approach your booth, weaving through the crowd with practiced ease, balancing trays of drinks with a grace that seemed almost supernatural. 

You could taste the lingering sweetness of your cocktail on your lips, a fruity concoction that was deceptively potent, its effects buzzing pleasantly through your veins. Seated comfortably in the plush leather seats, the polished wood table in front of you was littered with empty glasses and half-finished cocktails from the past hour’s celebration. A bottle of champagne stood in the center, its neck adorned with a thin layer of condensation, glistening in the low light.

Your eyes drifted to the hookah in the center of the table. Elain, her face serene, took an expert drag, the smoke curling elegantly from her lips as she leaned back. Her ease with the hookah wasn’t surprising; you’d seen her with a cigarette more often than not these days. 

Around the booth, your friends were caught up in the joy of winning this evening’s game. Feyre and Elain were deep in conversation with Nesta and Gwyn, their faces alight with excitement. Emerie and Mor were dancing nearby, their movements fluid and carefree, drawing appreciative glances from those around them. Tarquin and Helion were engaged in a lively conversation, their gestures becoming more expressive with each drink. Tarquin seemed to glow under the club lights, his easy smile infectious. Helion, with his rich, dark hair and striking presence, seemed to catch eyes from all over, even while seated at the booth.

Despite the lively atmosphere, a knot of unease twisted in your stomach. It had been a little over a month since Tarquin sprained his ankle, leading to your encounter with Rhysand and Azriel. Since then, you'd been avoiding them, wary of getting too close or being alone with either of them; you were afraid of what you might do if you did. But tonight, they were impossible to ignore. You couldn't help but steal glances at them, the memories vivid and intrusive. Their presence was magnetic, drawing your eyes despite yourself, and you felt a pang of guilt each time you were caught looking.

Rhysand, in a black button-down with the first few buttons undone, exposing a tantalizing glimpse of his chest, was lounging on the opposite side of the rounded booth. His piercing gaze occasionally met yours, making your stomach flip each time. You couldn't help but recall the feel of his toned, firm chest flush against yours that day in the locker room. And Azriel, dressed in a fitted dark grey shirt that accentuated his broad shoulders — the shoulders you’d seen tensing in the moments before he caught you watching, the ones you dug your nails into not 20 minutes later — stood leaned against the edge of the booth with his arms crossed. His hazel eyes were unreadable but no less intense.

Cassian’s laughter in your ear anchored you as your thoughts began to wander.

Noticing your tension, Tarquin placed his hand on your thigh. His warm touch rested against the skin left bare by your miniskirt. "You good?" he asked, his voice just loud enough to be heard over the club’s noise, concern evident in his eyes. You nodded, offering him a reassuring smile, though it felt more like a grimace. The concern on his face didn't fully fade, but he let it go, returning to his conversation with Helion. His hand remained on your thigh.

Emerie and Mor returned from the dance floor just as the server arrived with another round of drinks. They squealed in delight, grabbing two fruity cocktails from the tray, their laughter bubbling over as they toasted to perfect timing. Mor, followed by Emerie, plopped down next to Azriel, her golden curls glowing in the club lights. The sudden movement caused Helion, then everyone else, to scoot over, filling the booth to capacity.

The table erupted into easy banter. Stories were swapped, each more outrageous than the last, and laughter rang out freely. Jokes flew back and forth, drawing everyone into the lively exchange.

“Did anyone catch Challengers last weekend?” Feyre asked, leaning back with a grin. The buzz of conversation dipped for a moment as she spoke.

Gwyn’s eyes lit up. “Yes, oh my God — it was wild!” she blurted out, her excitement making her words tumble out rapidly, the memory of the film still fresh and vivid.

Cassian leaned in. “Isn't that the one with the tennis players who all end up...?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, drawing laughter from around the table. 

“Yeah, there’s a pretty light threesome scene,” Nesta smirked, taking a sip of her drink. “The two guys end up making out.” Her tone was casual, but the corner of her lips quirked up.

“Them making out wasn’t even the best part,” you cut in, “it was the sexual tension between them. So hot.”

Mor grinned mischievously. “What do you all think about that kind of arrangement? Threesomes, I mean, not tennis.” She looked around the table with a teasing smile.

Azriel, leaning comfortably against the booth, took a long pull from his beer, hiding a smirk. 

“Eh, I’ve thought about it,” Feyre shrugged, “but I think I'd rather focus my attention on one person. Quality over quantity, you know? Maybe at some point though, I won’t rule it out entirely.” Her fingers absently traced patterns on the condensation of her glass. Her eyes darted briefly to Rhysand, a private, knowing look passing between them. You caught the exchange, your gaze lingering on Rhysand until he met your eyes. Your brows furrowed slightly, suspicion and curiosity crossing your face. He only shrugged, though you could tell it was an effort for him to keep his lip from twitching up into a smirk.

Nesta’s eyes glinted as she spoke. "Could be fun, if the mood strikes. Why not?" Her casual demeanor contrasted sharply with the weight of her words.

“You all already know where I stand on that." Helion’s smooth voice cut through the momentary lull in conversation, audible even above the pulsing beat of the club music and the buzz of surrounding patrons.

Tarquin tapped his fingers lightly on the polished wood, a teasing glint in his eyes as he looked about the table. “It’s all about finding the right balance.” His tone was playful, yet thoughtful, reflecting his careful consideration of the topic. 

Cassian, who had been jovially participating in the discussion, suddenly tensed beside you. His eyes darted to Tarquin's hand, then back to your face. 

With deliberate casualness, Cassian pulled you closer, his arm tightening around your shoulders. "Speaking of balance," he interjected, his voice light but with an undercurrent of challenge, only loud enough for you three to hear, "I think we’re tipping a bit too far into the ‘friendly’ side of things, don’t you?" His gaze pointedly dropped to Tarquin's hand.

Tarquin, ever smooth, simply smiled and gave your thigh a gentle squeeze before removing his hand. "No harm in a little friendliness," he responded, his tone light but eyes sharp, meeting Cassian's stare with a hint of amusement. The tension lingered for a moment before dissipating into the background noise of the club.

Rhysand finally spoke up, his voice smooth and casual. “Sometimes the most… intense experiences come when you least expect them,” he said, his gaze briefly meeting yours before shifting to Azriel. “Wouldn’t you agree, Az?” He only nodded in response, taking another swig of his beer.

As the conversation moved on, you caught Mor’s gaze traveling between the three of you, her expression unreadable behind her glass. You recalled that day in the locker room, her sharp eyes taking in your damp hair, the pointed questions at karaoke night. "Nothing happened," you'd insisted, but her skeptical look had spoken volumes. The unspoken warning hung in the air – if there was something to tell Cassian, you'd better do it before she found out.

Now, watching Mor's subtle scrutiny, you felt that familiar knot of unease tighten in your stomach. Her suspicions, it seemed, were far from laid to rest.

“I’ll go get us another round of shots,” you spoke over the music. A chorus of voices erupted, overlapping in their enthusiasm.

“Fireball!” (“No!”)

“Fruit loop shots!”

“How about gummy bear shots?”

With a roll of your eyes and a playful smirk, you cut through the chaos. “Alright, I’ll get a mix of those. Be right back.”

You slid out of the booth, and though most returned to their conversations, you felt the weight of eyes on you as you made your way to the bar. The crowd pulsed around you, bodies moving in sync with the music, but your mind was elsewhere. The knot of unease tightened with every step. 

At the bar, you flagged down the bartender, who greeted you with a dazzling smile. “What can I get you?”

“Can I get ten green tea shots, eight fruit loop shots, and eight gummy bear shots?” you replied, leaning in so he’d hear you over the thumping music.

He nodded, setting to work with practiced ease. As you waited, you glanced back at your friends but found yourself face-to-face with a broad, muscular chest.

“Want to let me in on what Rhysand was talking about?” Helion’s voice was smooth and teasing, a playful glint in his eyes as he looked down at you.

“What do you mean?” you asked, trying to sound casual despite the rush in your ears. If he’d picked up on it, who else might have noticed? Had Cassian just hidden it well?

“Relax,” he laughed lowly, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. His hand was so large it wrapped over your shoulder, its warmth both reassuring and intimidating. “I don’t think anyone else caught it. But now you’ve got to explain what ‘it’ is, (y/n)…”

“No, seriously, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Rhys is drunk,” you say, surprisingly convincingly. Must have been the liquid courage. 

“Yes he is. And Rhys is an honest drunk, so wouldn’t you like for me to get him into an Uber before he…?”

You both fell silent, the thumping bass and clinking glasses of the club filling the void. The music was a distant roar, and the chatter around you felt like a heavy blanket, smothering the words you couldn’t quite say.

“This is extortion,” you say flatly. 

“I’m just looking out for you,” he said, a sly grin playing on his lips. “If you shed some light on this for me, I’ll make sure nothing slips that you don’t want slipping. Scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours.”

You’d love to scratch that back. 

“What do you think he meant…?” You were trying to gauge how much you should reveal. 

“I know what he meant. I’m not stupid, and I’m not drunk yet. I want to hear you say it.”

Rhysand directed his question at Azriel, making eye contact with you as he did. Anyone with half a brain who caught that look would know what he meant.

“If you already know then there’s no use in me saying it.”

“Then I don’t know. I only have a suspicion that needs confirming,” he smirked. 

“… We did…” Your words were hardly audible, but it didn’t matter because he pressed. 

“‘We did’ what?”

With a roll of your eyes and a glance back at the booth, you loosed a sigh. The words came out almost in a whisper. “We fucked.”

“When?”

“A month or so ago. When Tarquin sprained his ankle.”

“That’s why you took so long with my phone,” a voice cut in, the tone somehow both cool and accusatory. Tarquin. 

You whipped your head around to face him but froze. When had he gotten behind you? How had you not noticed? You’d been facing the booth the entire time!

“I figured something was up when Cass looked pissed after you answered the phone. Once I heard you were stuck in the locker room with them? I mean, it practically writes itself, (y/n).” At the look on your face, he continued. “He doesn’t know, but he definitely suspects.”

Your heart pounded as you looked between Helion and Tarquin, trying to gauge their reactions. Both had a teasing glint in their eyes, clearly enjoying your discomfort.

“Why didn't you just tell me?" Tarquin asked, his voice laced with mock curiosity. "We could have had some fun with this."

You sighed, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on you. "Oh, shut up, it’s not like I meant for it to happen,” you muttered. 

Helion's hand, warm and solid, was still on your shoulder, his thumb absently tracing small circles that only added to your anxiety. “So, what now?" he asked, his tone playful. "Are you going to keep hiding it, or are you going to let us in on the fun?"

Before you could answer, the bartender returned with a tray laden with shots. “Here you go,” he said cheerfully, sliding the tray onto the bar. “Rhysand’s tab, right?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” you muttered, grateful for the distraction. You reached for the tray, desperate for an excuse to leave this conversation behind, but Helion’s hand finally left your shoulder and closed over your own.

“I’ll carry these,” he said smoothly, his eyes never leaving yours.

You tried to pull your hand back, but he held firm, his grip gentle but unyielding. “Helion, please...”

“No, I’m a gentleman.” He leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. “We’re not done talking about this. But for now, let’s get these back to the table. We don’t want anyone to get suspicious, do we?”

Reluctantly, you let him take the tray. Tarquin’s eyes followed you as you turned back toward the booth, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips.

As you slid back into your seat, the conversation around the table picked up again, oblivious to the tension that had just unfolded. Cassian’s arm found its way back around your shoulders, his laughter a stark contrast to the turmoil churning inside you.

Helion placed the tray in the center of the table, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Shots, anyone?” he called out, his voice light and carefree. Hands from all around reached for them, liquid splashing out of glasses as they were pulled from the tray. 

“To a winning team, and good friends,” Cassian said, his voice warm. 

You forced a smile, lifting one of the glasses. “To good friends,” you said, your voice lost under everyone else’s.

The glasses clinked together, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to be swept up in the revelry. But as you drank, you couldn’t help but wonder how much longer you could keep up this charade, and what would happen when it all came crashing down. 

Helion leaned closer to Cassian, who was engaged in an animated conversation with Eris, of all people. "Mind if I steal her for a dance?" Helion asked, his tone light but dripping with suggestion.

Cassian glanced at you, then back at Helion, a playful but knowing grin on his face. "Go ahead," he said, his voice tinged with possessive amusement. "Just make sure you bring her back in one piece."

Helion circled the table and extended his hand to you, his eyes twinkling with anticipation. “Shall we?”

You hesitated for a moment before taking his hand, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver down your spine. As he led you to the dance floor, you glanced back at Cassian, who was now fully absorbed in his conversation with Eris.

The music pulsed around you, a steady beat that thrummed in your chest. He pulled you close, his hands resting lightly on your waist. You felt a bit tense, the events from earlier still lingering in your mind.

"Relax," Helion murmured in your ear, his breath warm against your skin. "We’re here to have a good time."

You nodded, trying to let go of your unease. Gradually, you began to sway with the rhythm, allowing yourself to get lost in the music. Helion’s touch was gentle but confident, guiding you with subtle movements. As you became more comfortable, your body moved more fluidly with his.

"That’s it, good girl," Helion murmured, his voice a soothing contrast to the thumping music.

The dance grew more intimate as he pulled you closer, his hands resting lower on your back. The closeness created a warm, almost electric tension between you. You found yourself responding to his movements, your bodies moving in sync.

Just then, Tarquin appeared beside you, slipping his arm around your waist. The sudden addition of his presence made the dance even more intense. Tarquin's proximity pressed you snugly between the two of them.

“Mind if I join in?” Tarquin’s voice was low, a playful edge to his tone.

You felt a flicker of anxiety and glanced around, briefly searching for Cassian. Instead, your gaze locked onto Eris, who stood at the edge of the dance floor. His eyes met yours for a moment, his expression unreadable but carrying a smirk that made your pulse quicken. As quickly as it came, the moment was gone. Tarquin gently turned your face back toward him, your chin in his grasp. “Hey, stay with us,” he said, his voice reassuring.

You relaxed slightly as their combined presence guided you through the dance. “Is this how you usually dance with someone?” you asked, trying to keep the mood light.

“Only when they’re as stiff as a board,” Tarquin replied with a chuckle. “You’re doing great, though.”

Helion smirked, his hand lingering on your hips as he moved in rhythm with you. “He’s right. And I’d say you’re better than anyone we’ve danced with tonight.”

You let out a soft laugh, trying to shake off the last of your nerves. “Well, I guess I have good company.”

Tarquin leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “If you keep this up, I might just want to keep you between us all night.” His words sent a shiver down your spine. 

Before you could look back at him in shock, Helion’s fingers tightened their grip, his voice low and teasing. “Careful, Tarquin. You might make her think she’s the center of the universe.”

With an arched brow, you looked at Helion and retorted with a playful smirk, “Well, aren’t I?”

Tarquin leaned closer to the man at your front. “You know, Helion” he murmured, “being the center of attention isn’t so bad. Especially when the attention comes from us.” Sensing the opportunity, he brought his lips to your ear. “If you keep that smile going, we might just find a few more ways to keep you entertained.”

You felt a flutter of anticipation, caught between the two of them as they moved against you. Helion’s touch was confident, and Tarquin’s words were a tantalizing promise of what might come next. You couldn’t help but feel drawn deeper into the flirtatious dance they were orchestrating.

Helion’s hands roamed slowly over your waist as he drew you closer, his touch electrifying against your skin. His lips grazed your ear, his voice a sultry whisper. “You’re doing a great job of keeping us entertained.”

You shivered at the sensation of their combined presence, their touches becoming increasingly intimate. Their movements were fluid, guiding you into a rhythm that was both exhilarating and intense. Helion’s grip tightened, pulling you against him as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your temple. “You feel so good like this,” he said softly.

You could feel the rising heat and the tantalizing pressure of their bodies against yours. The music seemed to fade away, leaving only the intense connection between the three of you. Each touch and whisper only deepened the charged atmosphere, making it hard to think of anything but the electric sensation of their attention.

After what felt like an eternity of heated dancing, you began to feel a wave of dizziness. You needed air. Sensing your discomfort, Tarquin and Helion exchanged a knowing look.

Tarquin’s hand found yours, his touch gentle but firm. “Let’s get some fresh air,” he suggested, his voice a soothing contrast to the earlier heat.

Helion nodded in agreement, slipping an arm around you for support. “We know just the place.”

Guiding you through the crowd, they led you toward a quieter area. They approached a security guard stationed at the door to the stairs leading to the rooftop terrace. The guard eyed the VIP bands on your wrists and let you all through without a word. As you ascended the stairs, Helion slipped the guard a generous tip, murmuring, “Don’t let anyone else up.”

As you reached the rooftop, the cool night air hit you like a refreshing breeze, cutting through the lingering heat from the club. The city lights stretched out before you, their twinkle a stark contrast to the vibrant chaos below.

Tarquin and Helion led you to a corner of the terrace. The space was elegantly furnished with plush seating and low tables, providing a serene escape from the pulsating energy inside.

Tarquin gestured to a comfortable chaise lounge. “Here, sit down. You look like you could use a minute.”

You took a seat, grateful for the respite. Helion moved to a nearby table and poured you a glass of cool water from a pitcher. “This should help,” he said with a reassuring smile as he handed it to you.

The chill of the water was soothing, and you drank it down eagerly, feeling the dizziness start to subside. Tarquin settled down beside you, his proximity warm and comforting, while Helion took a seat on the other side, his gaze flicking between you and the cityscape.

“So, how are you feeling now?” Tarquin asked, his voice soft.

“Much better, thanks,” you replied, taking a deep breath of the crisp air. “I just needed a break.”

Helion leaned back, a casual, knowing smile on his lips. “You know, fresh air is nice, but it’s even better with the right company.” He glanced at you with a twinkle in his eye.

Tarquin tilted his head, his grin more genuine. “And I think I recall you saying we’re wonderful company.”

Still looking straight ahead, you replied, “I don’t know about wonderful; I think the word I used was ‘good.’”

Helion’s smile widened. “I’d say ‘good’ is an understatement. Let us prove it to you,” his smile turned into a smirk. “We could make this night a lot more interesting.”

You turned to face him, your eyes flashing with a mix of resolve and irritation. You had given them the benefit of the doubt when they danced with you, assuming it was just the heat of the moment or perhaps a bit of playful flirtation. But now that you were alone with them on the terrace… You had sensed the shift the moment they suggested stepping away from the crowd, their casual touches and lingering glances all hinting at an underlying agenda.

“No, I’m not interested,” you said firmly, your voice cutting through the cool night air as you turned to face Tarquin on your other side. “I came up here for some air, not to be part of a game.” The words came out sharper than you intended.

Tarquin’s grin faltered slightly but then softened as he leaned in, his voice gentle but persistent. “You’ve been with Rhys and Az. We’re all here, and it seems a shame to waste the opportunity when we’re all just looking for a good time.”

The comment hit you hard, a sting of anger flaring up. “A good time?” you echoed, disbelief lacing your voice. “You think just because I’ve been with them, you’re somehow entitled to your turn? I don’t owe you anything.”

Helion stepped in, his expression a mix of charm and a hint of irritation. “We’re not trying to make you feel pressured,” he said, shooting a pointed look at Tarquin. “We’re just offering you a chance to enjoy the night with us.”

You shook your head, frustration bubbling up. “I’m not interested in being part of some game or fulfilling some sort of quota. I’m not going around sleeping with everyone on the team just because they’re interested. If that were the case, this would’ve all been over and done with years ago when you all seemed to lose the ability to keep your mouths shut and be respectful of Cassian and I’s relationship.”

Helion shrugged. “We’re not trying to force anything. Just… We’re here, and you’re here. It could be fun, that’s all.”

Tarquin’s tone grew more earnest. “If you’re not into it, that’s fine. But don’t act like it’s a big deal. We’re just having fun, same as everyone else.”

You took a deep breath, holding your ground. “Two other people are not ‘everyone else.’ I’m not about to give in just because you think you have a right to it.”

Tarquin’s expression softened further, a mix of frustration and something like sympathy in his eyes. “I get that. I really do. But we’re all adults here, and it’s not like we’re asking for anything serious. Just one night.”

He slid his hand to your thigh, the touch lingering with a slow, deliberate caress. The heat from his palm contrasted sharply with the cool night air. His touch was just as it had been in the booth, but now, with Cassian absent, there was no one to reprimand his advances.

Helion, sensing the slight crack in your resolve, leaned in closer, his voice lowering to a more intimate tone. “You’re overthinking it. It’s just us here, and we’re not asking for anything more than what you’re willing to give. It’s not about entitlement; it’s about enjoying each other.” His hand grazed your shoulder lightly, pushing your hair to the side. His proximity heightened the tension between you all. The warmth of his breath against your ear as he spoke made it hard to ignore the growing desire within you.

You felt the weight of their combined pressure, the playful but persistent charm starting to chip away at your defenses. Despite yourself, you began to question if it was worth fighting against this particular tide. The idea of one more night of reckless indulgence, without any deeper expectations, seemed to blur the line between wrong and thrilling.

You sighed, a conflicted look crossing your face. “I just don’t want to be treated like a prize to be won or a notch on a belt.”

Tarquin’s tone grew more soothing. “We’re not treating you like that. We just thought you might enjoy it. But if you’re not up for it, we can drop it. No hard feelings.”

Helion nodded, his gaze steady and reassuring. “We just want to make sure you’re having as much fun as we are. There’s no pressure.”

You hesitated, the words of their argument settling in your mind. Though part of you was still set on holding firm, you weren’t blind to the coercion in their tone. Of course there was pressure, they’d been pressuring you the whole time. However true, the temptation was hard to ignore. The night was young, and despite your reservations, the allure of a reckless escape with them was incredibly enticing.

You took a deep breath, weighing the tension in the air against your growing desire. You glanced at both Tarquin and Helion, a mix of defiance and resignation in your eyes. 

“Fine,” you said, your voice steady but laced with a hint of vulnerability. “But if I do this, it stays between us. No talking about it, no bragging. Just... tonight. Agreed?”

Tarquin’s eyes lit up with a mix of relief and excitement. “Absolutely,” he said quickly, a genuine smile spreading across his face.

Helion nodded in agreement, his eyes darkening. “We won’t say a word.”

The air between you shifted, the unspoken agreement hanging heavy. Tarquin leaned closer, the hand on your thigh rubbing and squeezing. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through you, heightening the anticipation.

Helion’s hand slid to your lower back, his touch both firm and gentle. “You sure you want this?” he asked, his voice low and soothing.

You nodded, trying to ignore the flutter of nerves and excitement. “Yeah,” you replied, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I’m sure.”

The three of you were enveloped in the dim light of the terrace, the cool air and their hands roaming over your body raised goosebumps across your skin as they explored with a mix of gentleness and urgency. Every caress was a mix of gentleness and urgency, heightening the anticipation as the city lights below seemed to blur into insignificance.

Tarquin’s lips found yours first, his kiss slow and exploratory. His hands cupped your face, thumbs brushing against your cheeks as his tongue traced the contours of your mouth. The kiss deepened, his lips moving with a controlled passion that made your heart race. He pulled back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours with a smoldering intensity.

“God, you’re stunning,” Tarquin murmured, his voice low and husky. He let his hands slide down to your waist, pulling you closer until you were pressed against him. His touch was warm and possessive, sending shivers through you.

Helion, observing with a burning gaze, slid his hands to your shoulders, gently but firmly guiding you toward him. As you shifted, he pressed a kiss to the side of your neck, his lips grazing your skin in a teasing manner. His hands traveled down your arms, fingers lightly grazing your skin before finding the curve of your hips.

Tarquin’s hands slipped beneath your thighs, lifting you effortlessly. With a playful grin, he shifted you onto his lap, your legs straddling him. His hands explored your back, fingers dancing over your skin as he leaned in to kiss you again, more urgently this time. His mouth moved from your lips to your neck, trailing soft bites and kisses that made you gasp.

“You feel incredible,” Tarquin breathed against your skin. 

Helion’s hands were now roaming over your sides, his touch firm but tender as he leaned in to whisper in your ear. “What a perfect girl, just for us,” he said, his breath hot against your skin. His lips brushed against the edge of your ear as he placed soft kisses along your jawline.

The two of them worked in tandem, their touches synchronized and perfectly attuned to your responses. Helion’s hands found their way to your chest, fingertips lightly grazing your curves, while Tarquin’s lips continued to worship your neck and shoulders. He would occasionally lift his gaze to meet yours, his eyes filled with admiration and hunger.

Tarquin’s hands moved from your thighs to your hips, guiding you to move against him as he pulled you closer. His grip tightened slightly, his touch conveying both dominance and affection. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice full of awe. Helion’s hands were equally attentive, tracing the lines of your body with meticulous care. His lips followed the path his fingers traced, placing lingering kisses that made you shiver with pleasure.

You moaned softly as their touches and kisses ignited your senses, but a playful glint appeared in your eyes. You arched your back slightly, pushing against Tarquin’s chest, and let out a breathy laugh. “So, is this how you two always work your charm? Sweet talk and flattery?”

Tarquin’s lips curled into a smirk, his breath warm on your neck as he whispered, “Only when it’s truly deserved. And believe me, you’re worth every word.”

Helion’s hands paused momentarily as he looked into your eyes, his expression both mischievous and earnest. “I thought you’d appreciate the honesty,” he said, his voice smooth. 

You arched an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at your lips as you met Helion’s gaze. “Honesty, huh? Seems like you both have a knack for turning compliments into a game.”

“Well, if the game’s as enjoyable as this, who are we to complain?” Tarquin’s grin widened, his hands still exploring your back with a touch that was both gentle and possessive.

Helion leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “It’s not just about the words. It’s about making you feel as incredible as you look.”

You shivered at the sensation, the mix of his breath and his touch sending jolts of pleasure through you. “And if I call you out on it?” you challenged, your voice teasing despite the breathless quality it carried.

Tarquin’s fingers danced over your hips, his eyes never leaving yours. “Call us out all you want. We’re still here, giving you exactly what you want.” He ground you down harder onto himself, and you felt the hard outline of his cock through the fabric of his pants. “You do want this, don’t you?” You nod in response.

“Mhm, want it so bad,” you murmur before crashing your lips back onto his. The two of them continued their relentless pursuit of pleasure, their hands and mouths finding new ways to torment you. The atmosphere on the terrace grew more charged with every passing second, your body caught in a whirlwind of sensation. Tarquin’s hands were warm and commanding, his touch making every part of you throb with need. Your shared kiss was deep and demanding as he guided your movements with a blend of passion and control.

Helion’s hands were relentless, his touch exploring every curve of your body with a mix of urgency and reverence. He leaned in to press kisses along your collarbone, his lips brushing against your skin with a teasing, hot breath. His voice was a velvety whisper in your ear, his words a mix of praise and persuasion. “You’re doing so well, so good for us. You’re exactly what we wanted.”

Your breath hitched as his hands slid down to cup your breasts, his fingers gently kneading and teasing. The pleasure was almost overwhelming, every touch making you writhe against Tarquin’s body. “You like that, don’t you?” Helion’s voice was dripping with both admiration and a hint of something darker.

The edge of humiliation combined with the praise made your cheeks flush, your head spinning with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal. “Yes,” you gasped into Tarquin’s mouth, “I like it, I want it.”

Tarquin’s hands gripped your hips tightly, guiding you as he rolled his own body against yours. “That’s it,” he murmured, his voice rough with need. “Tell us how much you want it.”

“Mmm, I want it so badly,” you moaned against his lips, your words barely audible as you ground down on him. The friction was almost unbearable, your body a hot, trembling mess of desire.

Helion’s hands roamed lower, his fingers sliding under your skirt and between your legs, teasing and stroking with practiced ease. He pressed a finger against your clothed clit, his touch sending electric jolts through your body. “Look at you,” he said with a smirk, “so eager, so ready for us. You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?”

Your response was a breathless, needy whimper, your body arching into his touch. “Yes, I’m a good girl.”

As the intensity of their touch grew, so did your need for more. Tarquin’s hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch of you with an almost reverent touch. His kisses were feverish, trailing down your neck and shoulders, his breath warm and urgent against your skin.

Helion’s fingers deftly worked you to the edge of pleasure. Just as you threw your head back in pleasure, he stole your lips into a kiss with a fierce hunger as his touch grew more insistent. “You’re doing so well,” he murmured between kisses. “You’re making us both so proud.”

The mix of their touches was almost too much to bear, your body quivering with need as they continued their relentless pursuit. Tarquin’s hands slid to your thighs, spreading your legs further apart to allow Helion better access. The air was thick with the sound of your moans and their encouraging praise, every sound heightening the intensity of the moment.

Finally, the need for release became too much to contain. The tension in your body reached its peak, and with a final, shuddering cry of pleasure, you came undone. Helion’s hands continued their relentless work, Tarquin’s grip on you tighter than ever as you experienced an intense, mind-blowing climax.

The overwhelming pleasure of your climax still rippling through you, Helion didn’t waste a moment. He guided you gently but firmly, easing you off Tarquin’s lap and settling you on his own. Your back pressed against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around you, his grip both possessive and reassuring. You felt his hardened arousal pressing against your back as he adjusted your position.

“Sit up and lean back,” Helion instructed softly, his breath hot against your ear as he pulled your skirt up to your waist. “Tarquin’s going to taste you now.” You complied, your legs parting as Helion held you steady, guiding your legs open wider, exposing you completely. Tarquin wasted no time, finding his way to your most sensitive spots. He nosed over the thin fabric covering your cunt, inhaling your scent deeply. With a whine, you tried to look away, but Helion chastised you, telling you that good girls watched the person making them feel good, and you’re a good girl, right?

You looked back in time to see Tarquin pulling your underwear off slowly, kissing his way down one leg, and kissing his way back up the other. You watched him give Helion the soaked-through flimsy bit of cloth, then threw your head back into Helion’s chest with a choked gasp as he licked a stripe up your center. 

His tongue moved with practiced skill, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. You moaned, your hands gripping Helion’s thighs for support as Tarquin’s mouth worked its magic.

Helion’s hands roamed your body, his touch both commanding and adoring. “Be good,” he murmured, his voice low and dominant. “Hold your legs open for Tarquin. Show him how much you want this.”

You adjusted your position, holding your legs apart as instructed. Helion’s hands traveled over your torso, fingers lightly grazing your skin and heightening every sensation. His voice was a mixture of praise and filth. “Look at you, all exposed and eager. Tell him how much you need him,” Helion demanded, his voice rough with desire. “Tell him what a good girl you are, that you’re here to make him feel amazing.”

You gasped out your responses, the pleasure from Tarquin’s mouth mingling with Helion’s dominant words. “I need you so much, Tarquin,” you moaned. “I’m a good girl, I’ll do whatever I can to make you both feel good.”

Tarquin’s eyes flicked up to meet yours as he continued his relentless work, a satisfied smirk on his lips. Helion’s hands roamed over your body with an almost worshipful touch, his words a mix of admiration and explicit praise.

“You’re doing so well,” Helion continued, his breath hot against your ear. “You’re making us both so proud. Stay like this, just for us.” As Tarquin’s tongue continued its relentless, pleasurable assault, Helion’s grip tightened around you. “Make sure she feels every bit of your attention. I want to hear her scream for you.” His voice was commanding, and laced with an underlying menace.

Tarquin’s eyes flicked up to meet Helion’s, a glimmer of challenge and excitement in his gaze. He intensified his efforts, his tongue moving with greater urgency, the pleasure he gave you unmistakable.

Large hands roamed over your body from behind, guiding you with deliberate touches, but his gaze remained fixed on Tarquin. “You’re doing well, Tarquin, so good for us. But if she comes before I say so, you won’t be finishing tonight. Understand?”

Tarquin’s nod was firm, a mix of eagerness and a hint of defiance in his expression. He focused even more intently on you, his mouth working skillfully to elicit every possible reaction from you. The pleasure was building rapidly, each flick of his tongue drawing the most beautiful, shameless sounds from your lips. Helion’s voice dropped to a low, teasing growl. “Show her how much you want this. Don’t hold back. Make sure she knows just how lucky she is to have us both.”

The pleasure was overwhelming, a swirling vortex of sensation that made it impossible to think of anything but the two men driving you to the brink of ecstasy. Tarquin’s tongue was relentless, each stroke deliberate and calculated, as if he were determined to prove himself under Helion’s watchful eye.

Helion’s hand gripped your chin, tipping your head slightly so you were forced to watch Tarquin’s devotion. “Look at him on his knees,” Helion murmured, his voice a low rumble against your ear. “See how desperate he is to please you? To prove he’s worthy? Tell him how good he’s making you feel. Tell him he’s a good boy.”

Your breath hitched at the command, but the words tumbled from your lips in a breathless moan. “Tarquin, you’re so good… so good at this.” Your praise seemed to spur him on, his efforts becoming even more fervent.

“And…?”

At that moment, Tarquin plunged two fingers into you. “And you’re a good boy— Fuck, you’re such a good fucking boy!” you practically sobbed.

Helion chuckled darkly, clearly pleased by your compliance. His hand slid down your body, his touch firm and possessive. “Don’t be rude, thank her.”

Tarquin’s groan vibrated against your core, his tongue still working its magic even as his eyes flickered up to meet Helion’s gaze. There was a fire in his eyes, determination and submission that made your pulse race when his eyes met yours. He pumped his fingers in and out as he spoke against you. “Thank you,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. “You taste so good, so sweet… I want to make you feel everything, tell me how to make you feel good.”

He added a gentle, teasing bite to your thigh, his tone turning possessive but still with a hint of deference, as he met your gaze again. "I’ll give you everything you need, whatever you want, just say the word." His words were meant for both of you.

Helion’s hand snaked down between your thighs, his fingers brushing against your clit with a teasing pressure. “Go ahead,” he told him with a knowing smile, and Tarquin’s eyes seemed to light up as he pulled his fingers out and dove back into you. A groan spilled out of you as his tongue worked, not at your dripping arousal, but further down, at the sensitive, puckered skin of your asshole.

Helion’s touch was maddeningly gentle as he continued to tease you, his fingers ghosting over your sensitive skin with a practiced ease. “You’re doing so well,” he praised, his voice dark and sultry, “giving yourself to us like this. You’re a perfect girl, aren’t you? So ready for us.”

You moaned, the combination of Tarquin’s skilled tongue and Helion’s filthy words driving you to the edge. But you knew better than to let yourself go without permission. The thrill of holding back, of teetering on the brink while they pushed you to your limits, was almost as intoxicating as the pleasure itself.

Tarquin let out a deep, guttural sound of agreement, his efforts redoubling as he focused entirely on your pleasure. He was determined to draw out your ecstasy, to make you tremble with the need to come while obeying Helion’s command.

Helion’s hand continued to roam over your body, his touch both comforting and possessive. “You’re ours tonight,” he whispered against your temple. 

Your breath caught in your throat, your body quivering with the need to let go. “Please,” you begged, your voice trembling as they both worked you closer to the edge. “Please, I need to… I need to come.”

Helion’s grip on your chin tightened, forcing you to keep your eyes locked on Tarquin. “No,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Not yet. You’ll come when I say, and not a moment before.”

Tarquin let out a groan of frustration against you but didn’t dare slow down. The denial of release made every flick of his tongue, every squeeze of his fingernails into your thighs, feel like a delicious torment. You were so close, the pleasure building to an unbearable peak.

Helion’s fingers brushed over your lips, and you instinctively parted them, taking them into your mouth. His smirk widened. “Good girl,” he purred. “But you’re getting a bit too loud — isn’t she getting too loud?” Tarquin’s nod was the only indication he heard him, because his movements never faltered. 

Without warning, the fingers in your mouth pulled your lips further apart, and you barely had a moment to process what was happening before he shoved your balled-up panties into your mouth, muffling your desperate moans. The taste of your own arousal on the fabric only heightened the humiliation, and you felt a fresh wave of heat pool in your core.

Tarquin’s eyes flared with lust as he watched, his breathing ragged. He didn’t let up for a second, his tongue continuing its relentless assault, poking and prodding and sucking at your hole, while Helion leaned down to nibble at the exposed edge of the panties now stuffed in your mouth. He inhaled deeply through his nose, taking in your scent. “Can’t wait to taste you on Tarquin’s tongue,” Helion growled, his voice dripping with dark desire. “You’re going to be so good for us, aren’t you?”

Your muffled cries of pleasure grew louder, your entire body shaking with the effort of holding back. Tarquin’s mouth was everywhere, licking and teasing, pushing you further to the brink until you were sure you couldn’t take it anymore. You were a trembling mess, teetering on the edge of bliss, but you knew you had to wait, had to endure until Helion decided you’d earned it. Every nerve in your body was on fire, and you could feel yourself teetering on the edge. Your mind swam in a sea of need as they both continued to push you further and further. The humiliation of the situation only added to your arousal, and you knew you were at their mercy, utterly helpless to resist. Every second felt like an eternity, the anticipation building to a crescendo that threatened to consume you entirely.

Your body was a trembling mess, the overwhelming need for release making it impossible to think of anything but the searing pleasure consuming you. Helion’s fingers rubbed you fervently, with more pressure and speed. Tarquin’s mouth was relentless, his tongue swirling and teasing you in a way that made your head spin. Every flick of his tongue, every graze of his nails, sent you spiraling closer to the edge, your willpower slipping with every passing second.

Helion’s voice was a low, commanding growl in your ear. “Hold on just a little longer. You’re being so good for us.”

But the tension in your body was unbearable. Your moans were muffled by the panties stuffed in your mouth, but even that couldn’t silence the desperate, pleading sounds escaping you. The pressure was too much, the pleasure too intense, and despite Helion’s command, you felt yourself slipping.

Tarquin’s tongue found that perfect spot and everything inside you unraveled. Your body bucked against him, a muffled scream of ecstasy escaping your lips as you came hard, the orgasm tearing through you with a force that left you trembling.

Helion’s eyes darkened instantly, his hand tightening on your chin as he realized what had happened. Tarquin paused for a moment, his eyes wide as he looked up at Helion, then back down at you, a mix of shock and concern flickering across his face. He knew you were in trouble now, but he didn’t dare move, his mouth still hovering close to you.

Helion’s grip on your chin was firm as he forced your head back to meet his gaze. “You disobeyed me,” he said, his voice calm but filled with an underlying threat. He pulled the panties from your mouth, letting them dangle from his fingers as he eyed you with a mix of disappointment and desire.“I told you not to come until I gave you permission, and you couldn’t even do that. What happened? Don’t you think that was selfish of you? Do you not want to be our perfect girl?”

You could only whimper in response, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of your orgasm. You didn’t know whether you should answer or hold your tongue, but when you opened your mouth to steady your breaths, he dropped the fabric onto the chaise and gripped your throat. It was just enough to make you gasp for breath, as he leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. “Since you couldn’t control yourself, we’re going to make sure you learn some restraint. And you’re going to thank us for it.”

He glanced down at Tarquin, who was still watching with concern and excitement, his eyes flickering with a strange kind of submission. “Keep going,” Helion ordered, his voice firm. “I didn’t say you could stop. But don’t give her your tongue. She doesn’t deserve it.”

Tarquin’s gaze met Helion’s, a silent understanding passing between them. Without hesitation, he moved his mouth away from your skin and positioned his fingers at your entrance. The slow, deliberate way he slid them inside you sent a shudder through your body, but it wasn’t enough—not after the climax you’d already stolen.

Helion’s grip on your throat tightened slightly, a warning, as his other hand moved to cover Tarquin’s, guiding the pace. Tarquin rubbed your clit with the pad of his thumb, but the pressure was teasing, not nearly enough to push you back over the edge.

“You don’t get to come,” Helion growled in your ear, his tone harsh. “You’ll suffer through this until I say otherwise. Tarquin, make sure she feels everything—but don’t give her what she wants. Make her squirm.”

Tarquin’s fingers curled inside you, hitting that spot that made your back arch involuntarily, but just as quickly, he slowed down, drawing out your torture. His thumb circled your clit, the sensation driving you wild, but it wasn’t enough to bring you the relief you so desperately craved.

Helion’s dark eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he watched you struggle, your body caught between the pleasure of Tarquin’s fingers and the denial of the orgasm you could feel building again. The hand that he’d had over Tarquin’s came firmly over your mouth, quieting you further. He leaned in, his breath hot against your cheek as he whispered, “You want to come, don’t you? You want it so badly… but you don’t deserve it yet.” Your muffled moans only grew louder. “You’re going to thank us for this later,” he said, a sadistic edge to his voice you’d never heard. “You’re going to learn what it means to be good.”

Tarquin’s fingers continued their relentless, teasing pace, keeping you right on the edge, but never letting you tip over. The frustration was overwhelming, every nerve in your body screaming for release, but you knew better than to disobey Helion’s command again. All you could do was writhe under their control, every inch of your skin tingling.

Tarquin’s fingers faltered for just a moment, his frustration evident as he looked up at you, then Helion, then back at you. “You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” he muttered, his voice low and laced with a mix of annoyance and disappointment. His thumb pressed harder against your clit, but the movement was rougher now, more punishing than teasing. “I hope it was worth it,” he added, his tone cold. “Because now, you’ve made things a lot more difficult for both of us.” He withdrew his fingers just enough to make you whine in protest, then plunged them back in with a sharp thrust, his thumb rubbing against you in tight, controlled circles. “I was looking forward to feeling you come apart on my tongue,” he continued, the frustration clear in his voice.

Helion smirked, clearly enjoying the shift in Tarquin’s demeanor. “That’s right,” he murmured, his voice full of approval. “She doesn’t get to come just because she feels like it.”

Tarquin’s eyes darkened as he focused on you, his frustration at losing his own chance at orgasm fueling his actions as he continued to work you with his fingers. The sensation was intense, the pleasure building in maddening waves, but you knew it wouldn’t be enough to push you over the edge again.

“Do you see what happens when you don’t listen?” Tarquin growled, his thumb circling your clit with that same punishing pressure. “If you’d just been good… if you’d just followed the rules, you’d have everything you want by now. But instead…” His fingers curled inside you, hitting that perfect spot with maddening precision, only to slow down again. “Instead you’re here, squirming, desperate, and unsatisfied.”

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a hushed, almost tender tone that contrasted sharply with the frustration in his actions. “Just listen to what we say, and you’ll get everything you want,” he whispered, his breath fanning over your chest. “Be good for us, and I’ll make sure you come so hard you’ll be begging for more. But if you can’t do that…” His fingers withdrew almost entirely before plunging back in with a hard thrust. “You’ll just keep losing out, won’t you?”

Helion’s eyes gleamed with a dark, amused light as he observed the dynamic between you and Tarquin. His hands roamed over your hips, giving a firm, possessive grip before he gently, yet firmly, moved you off of him. He guided you to the side, his hands leaving you with a deliberate, almost teasing touch. 

“Now, let’s see how well you can handle this,” Helion purred, his voice low and filled with a dangerous edge. He gestured toward the loveseat diagonal to the chaise with a commanding flick of his wrist. “Sit there.”

With a mix of frustration and anticipation, you obeyed, positioning yourself as instructed. Helion’s gaze followed you with a smirk, clearly enjoying the control he held over the situation. He turned his attention back to Tarquin, who was still kneeling on the floor before him, a hungry look in his eyes as he waited for Helion’s direction.

“Since you seem to have forgotten your manners, (y/n),” Helion said, his tone dripping with a mix of amusement and authority, “I think it’s only fair you watch us have our fun. After all, you’ve had your moment of pleasure.”

Your eyes widened as you took in his words, and again when he leaned closer to Tarquin, their faces almost touching as they shared a private moment of wickedly seductive conversation. Tarquin’s eyes were locked onto Helion’s, his expression one of fierce desire.

You could only watch, your frustration mingling with undeniable arousal, as Helion and Tarquin engaged in a mesmerizing display of passion and power. Each touch, each kiss, each groan of pleasure, was a reminder of what you were missing out on, and the sight of them together only heightened your longing for what you were being denied.

Helion’s eyes met yours briefly, a smirk playing on his lips. “Enjoy the show,” he said softly, his voice carrying a promise of more to come. “And remember, this is what happens when you don’t play by the rules.”

You pulled your skirt back down, the soft fabric smoothing against your thighs as you adjusted it nervously. The urge to leave was strong—one part of you screamed to escape this tantalizing torment. But as you remained in place, your gaze was magnetically drawn back to them, to Tarquin now climbing into Helion’s lap. The way their bodies moved together was mesmerizing.

Helion's dark eyes glittered with a blend of satisfaction and challenge as he pulled Tarquin closer, their bodies pressing together in a heated embrace. His fingers tangled in Tarquin’s hair, guiding their kisses with a possessive hunger. But Tarquin’s expression remained fierce, his grip on Helion’s hips assertive and unyielding. Despite Helion’s commanding presence, Tarquin's actions spoke of his own dominance, a constant push and pull of control.

Tarquin’s hands roamed over Helion’s body with a possessive edge. His fingers dug into Helion’s sides, pulling him closer, while his lips left a trail of heated kisses that spoke volumes about his own claims and desires. He was relentless, his movements calculated, his strength palpable. Even as Helion leaned into the pleasure, he met Tarquin’s intensity with a smirk, his eyes glinting with dark amusement. The physical clash between them was electric. Tarquin’s lithe but muscular frame contrasted with Helion’s broader build, their bodies weaving together in a dance of dominance and resistance. Helion's laughter was low, a sound of both approval and defiance, as Tarquin’s hands explored every inch of his body, making it clear that while Helion might lead, Tarquin was more than willing to fight for his share of control.

The breeze made their hair flutter, intertwining like threads of dark and light silk, adding to the primal beauty of their struggle for dominance. Tarquin’s fingers gripped Helion’s jaw, forcing him to meet his gaze as their breaths mingled. “You think you can control everything?” Tarquin murmured, his voice a dangerous mix of challenge and desire. “Prove it.”

Helion's smirk never wavered as he met the challenge head-on, his hands pushing back with equal fervor. “Always up for a challenge,” he replied, his voice dripping with confidence. 

As you watched, your thoughts wandered briefly. The intensity of their interaction made you wonder if you could ever convince Cassian to explore something like this. The idea was fleeting, a mere whisper in your mind, but the image of Cassian in a similar dance of power and desire with another man stirred something deep within you.

Helion's gaze met yours. "Look at you, so eager and yet so helpless," he said, his voice soft but laced with an edge of mockery. "You’ve got quite the view, don’t you? It’s a shame you can’t join in, but maybe that’s just the lesson you needed."

Tarquin chuckled softly, his hands still roaming over muscled planes as he looked back at you. "But don’t worry, we won’t forget about you," he said, his tone slightly softer, though still carrying a teasing note. "We’ll give you a chance to be good again—just as soon as we’ve had our fun."

Their bodies moved together with a seamless rhythm, each touch and thrust a testament to their shared control. Helion’s hands roamed confidently over Tarquin’s chest, tracing the contours of his muscles with a possessive touch. Tarquin responded with equal fervor, his own hands sliding over Helion’s back, pulling him closer as their hips ground together in a slow, deliberate dance.

The intensity of their connection was palpable. Helion’s lips found Tarquin’s neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin with a teasing bite. Tarquin’s breathing hitched, his eyes closing as he savored the sensation. They moved in unison, their bodies pressing together with dominance and intimacy. Without breaking their rhythm, Tarquin’s hands slipped down to his pants, deftly undoing them with practiced ease. He pulled out his cock, the sight of it making your eyes darken with lust. Helion, never missing a beat, did the same, exposing his own hardened length.

Tarquin wrapped his hand around both of their cocks, his grip firm and purposeful. He guided their movements, the friction of his hand creating a rhythm that was both intense and exhilarating. Helion moaned softly against his skin, his fingers digging into Tarquin’s shoulders as he matched the rhythm, their bodies moving in perfect harmony.

As their pleasure mounted, the focus shifted entirely between them, the external world fading away. Helion’s breath grew ragged, his hands gripping Tarquin’s hips with a desperate intensity. “Fuck,” Helion growled, his voice a rough whisper against the other’s ear. “You feel so good. I can’t get enough of you.”

Tarquin’s response was a deep, throaty moan, his hand still moving between them, guiding their rhythm. “I’ve been waiting for this,” he murmured, his voice heavy with desire. “You know how much I love it when you’re like this. So intense, so fucking demanding.”

Helion’s eyes fluttered closed as he lost himself in the sensation, his hips driving harder against Tarquin’s hand. “Seeing you like this, giving it all to me…” he breathed, his voice a low rumble.

Tarquin’s grip tightened, a primal growl escaping him as he pushed into Helion with renewed vigor. “And you’re not the only one getting a show,” he said, his voice thick with lust. “Imagine how she’s watching us. She’s so fucking desperate, watching every move we make. And here we are, just enjoying each other, giving her a taste of what she can’t have.” The intensity between them grew, their bodies moving in a fevered dance of lust and dominance. Each kiss, each touch, was a testament to their mutual craving, their voices blending in a symphony of pleasure.

Helion’s climax hit with a shuddering breath, his head falling back as he released into Tarquin’s waiting hand, cupping over them to stop the mess. The muscles in his body tensed, his grip on Tarquin’s shoulders tightening as he rode out the waves of pleasure.

Tarquin, still grinding against him, smirked as he felt Helion’s release spill over his fingers. He made a move to take himself over the edge, but Helion’s hand was suddenly on his chest, firm and commanding. “No,” Helion murmured, his voice breathless but authoritative.

With a frustrated growl that went straight to your already throbbing cunt, Tarquin collected the remnants of release. His gaze flicked to Helion, who leaned in close, whispering something into his ear. Whatever he said made Tarquin’s eyes light up with dark amusement, and a slow, wicked smile spread across his face.

Without a word, Tarquin stood and walked over to where you sat, still bound by the torment of watching them together. “Open up,” he commanded, his voice soft but leaving no room for argument. Your eyes widened at the implication, but you obeyed, parting your lips.

Tarquin’s smile grew as he brought his hand closer to your mouth, but instead of what you expected, he reached for your discarded underwear. His eyes locked onto yours as he used the delicate fabric to clean his hand. Then, with a satisfied smirk, he shoved the now-damp underwear back into your mouth. “There,” he murmured, his voice low and mocking. “Hold on to that for us.”

Helion’s dark eyes traced the line of your body, his gaze intense as he watched you struggle with the fabric stuffed back into your mouth. He let the tension build for a moment before speaking, his voice low and smooth. “Are you ready to be good now?” he asked, the question laced with a promise that made your heart race.

You nodded eagerly, desperate to end the torment, your desire to please them both outweighing your earlier defiance. But Tarquin wasn’t about to let you off that easily. His hand gently tilted your chin up so you were forced to look into his eyes. “Use your words,” he said, his tone teasing but firm.

You tried to speak, but the underwear stuffed in your mouth muffled your response, turning your “Yes” into a barely intelligible sound. Tarquin’s lips curved into a sly smile, clearly amused by your predicament. “What was that?” he asked, his voice dripping with mock innocence. “I didn’t quite catch it.”

Helion chuckled softly from behind him as he walked over to you both, his amusement at the situation clear. “I think she’s ready,” he mused, his hand resting on Tarquin’s waist with a glint of anticipation in his eyes.

The anticipation was almost unbearable as they slowly exposed your skin to the night air, each touch sending sparks of desire through your body, their dominance palpable in every move they made. Tarquin’s lips ghosted over your breasts after he pulled the fabric of your flimsy little top underneath them, and Helion’s fingers toyed with your bare cunt when he hiked your skirt back up over your hips.

As their hands roamed over your body, a desperate yearning welled up inside you. The desire to kiss them, to taste their lips and share in their passion, was overwhelming. But the underwear stuffed in your mouth was a reminder of your place in this moment; you were to take what they gave you.

It was humiliating, the way they had taken away your ability to speak, to kiss, to express the longing that burned inside you. Yet, at the same time, it was intoxicating. The taste of Helion's cum on the fabric only heightened your arousal. You had never felt so exposed, so vulnerable, and yet so deeply connected to the heat of the moment. You wanted more—more of their touch, more of their dominance, and more of the delicious torment they were inflicting upon you. Your body trembled with the need to kiss them, to show them how much you wanted to please them, but all you could do was whimper softly, your gaze pleading for mercy.

Helion’s fingers slid away from your cunt, leaving you achingly empty, but not for long. He exchanged a brief, heated glance with Tarquin, a silent agreement passing between them. Helion’s hands were firm as he guided you onto all fours, positioning you just where they wanted. He reached into his wallet and pulled out a small, foil packet. Even in the midst of your desperation, you shot him a pointed look as you let the soaked fabric fall from your lips.

“Are you kidding me? You’re such a guy,” you said, “no way you carry a condom in your wallet.”

Helion’s lips curved into a smirk as he tore open the packet. “Always prepared,” he replied, not missing a beat. “Wouldn’t want to disappoint, would I?”

Tarquin chuckled, shaking his head as he moved to your front, his fingers trailing up your spine. “You’ve got a sharp tongue, even now. Let’s see if we can put it to better use.”

As Helion rolled the condom on, Tarquin gently coaxed your head down, guiding you to take him into your mouth. The feeling of his hard length against your lips sent a thrill through you, and as you obediently opened up for him, you felt Helion’s hands spreading your thighs wider.

The anticipation built to a fever pitch as Helion positioned himself at your entrance, his cock pressing against your slick heat. As Tarquin’s cock slid past your lips, filling your mouth completely, the dual sensation of being taken from both ends sent a shiver of pleasure through your body. Their dominance was overwhelming, making every nerve in your body hum with a primal need.

As Helion slowly slid into you, the stretch and fullness made your breath hitch, every inch a reminder of how long you had waited for this moment. “You waited so patiently for us,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth. “Watching us, being such a good girl… you deserve this.”

Tarquin’s fingers threaded through your hair, gently guiding your movements as you took him deeper into your mouth. “Sitting so pretty, waiting for your turn,” he said, his tone carrying a mix of affection and amusement. “Loved seeing you watch us… so eager, so desperate to join in.”

Tarquin’s grip on your hair tightened slightly, holding you still as Helion leaned in closer. “We’re not going to fuck you yet,” Helion murmured, his voice teasingly soft. “If you want it, you’re going to have to work for it.”

The words sent a jolt through you, a mix of frustration and anticipation. They held you in place, their bodies perfectly still, forcing you to take the lead. Slowly, you began to move, rocking your hips back against Helion and taking Tarquin deeper into your mouth. Every motion was deliberate, each shift of your body a silent plea for more. Their eyes were locked on you, watching with dark satisfaction as you worked for every bit of pleasure, proving just how much you craved them.

As you picked up the pace, your movements became more urgent. You could feel the heat building inside you, the rhythm of your hips matching the rhythm of your mouth working around Tarquin’s cock. Each time you emptied your mouth of Tarquin, you rocked back onto Helion, the sensation of being filled made your body shudder with pleasure.

Helion's breathy, approving moans mingled with Tarquin's low growls of satisfaction. “Look at you, taking us so well,” Helion’s voice was thick with desire, his hand gripping your hip to guide your movements. “Such a good little slut, working hard for our pleasure.”

Their praise was as pleasure-inducing as the physical sensations, each comment driving you to push harder, to take more. You hollowed your cheeks around Tarquin’s cock, drawing him deeper into your throat as you squeezed the muscles in your cunt, tightening around Helion. The moment you tightened around them, they both reacted instinctively, their bodies moving with a newfound intensity. Tarquin’s eyes widened with approval, his grip on your hair tightening as he thrust into your mouth, while Helion’s fingers dug into your hips, pulling you down onto him with a fierce, commanding rhythm. Helion’s thrusts were hard and relentless, each motion sending waves of pleasure through you, while Tarquin’s movements became more aggressive, pushing deeper into your mouth with each stroke. The forceful rhythm of their fucking matched the desperate speed of your movements, each thrust and grind creating a symphony of pleasure and raw need.

Their groans of pleasure filled the room, mingling with your muffled cries of ecstasy. You could feel every powerful thrust, every commanding grip, as they took you with wild abandon. The sensation of being used by both men at once left you trembling and gasping for breath between their merciless, demanding movements. 

“That’s it,” Tarquin growled primally, his voice filled with raw desire. “Look at you, working so hard for us. You’re our pretty cocksleeve, taking both of us so well.”

Helion’s breathy, approving moans punctuated the air as he watched you. “Feel how she’s squeezing around you? She’s not just taking it; she’s giving us everything she’s got.” His hand gripped your hip, giving him purchase for his unrelenting pace. “She’s our perfect plaything, proving herself with every thrust. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

“Tell us how good it feels,” Tarquin urged, his voice a mix of dominance and genuine curiosity. “Let us hear it, tell us with my cock stuffed in this sweet little mouth. We want to know just how much you crave this.” Your rise in volume and the increased frequency of your gasps and moans reflected your enthusiasm — answer enough.

Helion’s gaze remained locked on you, his eyes dark with satisfaction. “You’re making us so proud,” he said softly, gruffly. “Just a little more, and we’ll give you everything you’ve been begging for. You’re so close, just keep going.”

Tarquin’s fingers tangled further in your hair, his grip tightening as he watched you struggle and delight in the dual pleasure. “We’re not stopping until you’re dripping with pleasure, sweetheart,” he growled, his tone promising both pleasure and punishment. “We want to see you come undone, completely ours. No one else’s.”

He knew what he was doing with the utterance of those words.

Completely ours.

No one else’s.

Fuck.

You continued to rock back and forth between them, driven not only by the intensity of their praise and the sensations but also by the reminder of what was going on downstairs — of who you came with. 

Helion’s voice was a low, satisfied growl. “She’s taking it so well,” he said, his gaze fixed on you. “It’s like she was made for this. Isn’t she the best little fuck toy we’ve ever had?”

Tarquin’s lips suddenly found Helion’s in a heated kiss, their mouths clashing in a fervent embrace. The sound of them kissing while they both took pleasure from you was almost more than you could handle. Their tongues tangled and teeth scraped together, the kiss fierce and passionate, mirroring the raw intensity of the moment.

The mingling of their mouths, their bodies moving in perfect rhythm with yours, only heightened the heat coursing through you. You could feel the vibrations of their moans, each one sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. Helion’s hands gripped your hips firmly, guiding you to meet his thrusts, while Tarquin held your head in place, his cock filling your mouth to the hilt. The way they devoured each other, while simultaneously taking you, made every nerve in your body stand on edge.

Gasping for breath, you managed to pull off Tarquin’s cock for a moment, desperate to voice your need. “Please, hurry,” you moaned, your voice thick with urgency. “I need to get back—”

“No,” Tarquin responded, his voice a dark growl as he pulled you back down onto his cock. “We’re going to go at the pace we want. You’ll just have to keep up.”

Helion, still thrusting into you with measured force, chuckled darkly, his lips brushing against Tarquin’s as they kissed. “But we wouldn’t want to arouse any suspicion, would we?” he murmured, his voice thick with amusement. “If we’re gone for much longer, we might draw unwanted attention.”

Their kiss deepened, and their pace remained deliberate, every thrust and movement calculated. When Helion broke the kiss, his eyes glinted mischievously, his lips brushing against Tarquin’s ear as he addressed you. “Make him feel so good, sweetheart,” Helion commanded softly, his voice like velvet. “But remember, he’s not allowed to come yet. Don’t let him.”

You felt the tension in Tarquin’s body, the way his muscles tightened as you worked him with all the skill you could muster, knowing exactly how close he was. 

Helion's gaze never wavered from Tarquin as he continued to thrust into you, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “You love this, don’t you, Tarquin? Feeling her warm mouth wrapped around you, so eager to please.” His hand slid down Tarquin’s chest, fingers tracing the lines of his muscles. “But you’re going to hold on, aren’t you? No matter how good she makes you feel.”

Tarquin’s breath hitched, his grip on your hair tightening as he struggled to maintain control. Helion smirked, his words a delicious torment. “I bet you’re aching to let go, to fill her up, but you can’t. Not with your slip-up earlier.”

Tarquin’s growl was low and commanding, his voice steady despite the strain. “I’m not giving in that easily,” he muttered, his grip on your hair firm as he thrust deeper into your mouth. “I can hold out as long as I need to.”

Helion’s smirk widened, his gaze locked on Tarquin’s as he continued to thrust into you with calculated precision. “I don’t doubt your endurance, Tarquin,” he teased, his voice a seductive purr. “But with her working you so well, how long can you really last?”

Tarquin’s breath hitched, but he kept his control, his voice rough but steady. “I’m not losing it,” he insisted, though there was a hint of tension in his tone. “I can take whatever you make her give me.”

Helion chuckled softly, his breath warm against Tarquin’s skin. “You’re trembling, Tarquin,” he murmured with dark satisfaction. You moaned around his cock at the sound of that, bobbing your head fiercely. 

Tarquin’s control was fraying, his breath coming in ragged gasps as the pleasure threatened to overwhelm him. “Helion…” he growled, his voice rough with need. “Fuck, I’m… I can’t—”

Helion silenced him with a deep, demanding kiss, his tongue teasing Tarquin’s as he continued to thrust into you. “Yes, you can,” he whispered against Tarquin’s lips. “And you will, because I want you to.”

Tarquin’s resolve finally broke, a deep, desperate groan escaping him as he thrust into your mouth with barely controlled force. “Please, Helion,” he rasped, the dominance in his tone now edged with raw need. “I can’t hold on much longer... just let me finish. I need it.”

Helion pulled back slightly, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he considered Tarquin’s plea. “Oh, Tarquin,” he murmured, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Maybe I’m feeling a little generous tonight. But if you want to finish, you’re going to have to earn it.”

Tarquin’s breath caught, his eyes narrowing as he tried to regain some semblance of control. “What... what do you want?” You didn’t stop pleasuring him, pulling his pants down just a bit more to fondle his balls. 

Helion’s smile was all dark promise as he leaned in, his lips brushing against Tarquin’s ear. “Tell her,” he whispered, his voice a velvety command. “Tell her all the things you’ve thought about doing to her. All those times you’ve imagined fucking her. Like when we took that beach trip a few months ago, and you watched her tanning with Morrigan.”

Tarquin’s gaze flicked to you, the tension between his desire and his pride visible in the clench of his jaw. But Helion’s hold on him was too strong, the command too irresistible.

“I...” Tarquin began, his voice hoarse as he struggled to find the words. “That day... when you were lying there, skin all golden and glistening... I couldn’t stop thinking about what it would be like to fuck you right there on the sand. With everyone watching, knowing you were mine, watching me make you mine.”

Helion hummed in approval, his hand sliding lower on Tarquin’s chest, teasing the sensitive skin just above his waistband. “Good,” he purred. “Now tell her more. When else did you want her?”

Tarquin’s grip on your hair tightened as his memories flowed freely, the desperation in his voice mingling with the intensity of his confession. “Last New Year’s Eve, the party at Rhysand’s, when you wore that little black dress... I couldn’t stop imagining ripping it off you and bending you over the nearest table. Just taking you in front of everyone, making you scream my name.”

“Go on.”

“In the locker room,” he began, his breath hitching as he spoke, his words mixing with whines. “Cassian sent you in to grab his skates off the top shelf. You were wearing that little sundress… the one that rode up just enough when you reached for them. I was ready to take you right there, but then Eris got to you first.”

You remembered that day, remembered it well. The way Eris had slid up behind you, his hand low on your hip, grinding his hips into yours as he reached for the skates. You had loved the feeling of him pressing into you, shirtless with a pair of jeans that hugged his thighs just right, the heat of his body against yours making your breath catch.

“When Az and I were at your place with Cassian, just a few days ago…” Tarquin’s voice was ragged, almost trembling. “You came out of the bedroom in nothing but his t-shirt, no bra—fuck, I could see your nipples through the fabric. You were just after a snack, barely even saw us sitting there, and when you did, your face went all red. All I could think about was making some excuse to follow you back into that room, just taking you right there. I was hanging on by a thread, trying so damn hard not to lose it.”

Then Helion smirked, the corner of his lips curling up as he watched Tarquin’s desperation. "You’ve been a good boy, Tarquin," Helion purred, his voice thick with amusement and satisfaction. "Go ahead, let go. You've earned it."

As Helion’s permission washed over him, Tarquin’s breath caught, and he looked at you with a blend of tenderness and raw need. His voice softened, even as he was on the brink. “Is it okay if I shove my cock all the way down your throat? Hm? Come inside you?” he asked softly, his voice a beautiful blend of filthy and tender.

His eyes never left yours, and the desperation in his voice became more pronounced. “I can’t hold back much longer,” he groaned, his voice breaking with the intensity of his need. “I want to bury myself in your throat, fill you up completely. Feel you swallow all of me. It’s all I’ve been thinking about.”

His grip on your hair tightened, and his eyes closed for a moment as he fought to reach his peak. “Please,” he pleaded, his voice growing more urgent, “let me come inside you. I need to feel your throat squeeze around me, need to know you’re taking every bit. I’m so close… can’t you feel how much I want it?”

Distantly, you heard Helion let out a long groan of pleasure, slamming into you a few more times before coming to a stop, his heavy breaths lost among Tarquin’s and your moans. 

Tarquin’s breath came in ragged gasps as he struggled to hold on, his voice now a raw, desperate plea. “I’m so close,” he groaned, his hips jerking uncontrollably as he neared the edge. “Fuck, I need to come… inside you.”

With a final, strained cry, he shoved himself into your throat to the hilt and held you there. Tarquin’s grip on your hair became painful, his entire body shuddering with the force of his release. His cock throbbed violently in your mouth as he erupted, shooting his hot cum deep down your throat. His moans were of relief and unrestrained pleasure, his desperation giving way to intense, blissful satisfaction.

His voice dropped to a whisper, filled with spent tenderness. “Swallow it all… feel it,” he murmured, still trembling from the aftershocks of his orgasm. His eyes fluttered open, meeting yours with a look of spent but tender satisfaction. “You were incredible,” he added softly, his voice thick with gratitude and lingering need.

As Tarquin’s body finally relaxed, his breath coming in deep, shuddering sighs, Helion leaned in close, his voice soft but filled with genuine warmth. “A perfect girl, weren’t you,” he murmured, his fingers brushing lightly against your cheek. “You’ve taken care of us so well.”

He glanced over at Tarquin with a relaxed grin. “And you weren’t too bad yourself,” he added with a chuckle.

Tarquin, still catching his breath, gave a tired but genuine smile. “Glad you think so,” he said, his voice rough but content.

You, however, were already moving with a sense of urgency. After pulling yourself off both of them, your hands deftly fixed your clothes, your phone in hand as you used its camera as a makeshift mirror to touch up your makeup. You glanced at both of them with a mix of guilt and impatience as they tucked themselves back into their pants, and you let out a quick, apologetic sigh. 

“I have to go,” you said, your voice brisk but apologetic. “We all need to get back.” You smoothed down your hair, your eyes darting between the two men as you adjusted your appearance. “Sorry…”

Helion gave a small nod, his eyes understanding. “We’ll head out with you. No worries.”

With a final glance to make sure you were presentable (and Tarquin wiping something warm off of your neck and licking his thumb clean, and Helion having done God-knows-what with the condom), you led the way, the three of you moving quickly and quietly.

As you re-entered the club, the pulsating music and vibrant lights greeted you. Just as you made your way back to the booth, a voice called out from the crowd.

“Hey, where have you guys been?” It was Elain, her eyes wide with concern and curiosity.

You forced a small, apologetic smile. “I was feeling a bit sick earlier,” you explained. “They were just helping me get some fresh air.”

Elain nodded understandingly, her gaze softening as she took in your appearance. “Well, I’m glad you’re okay, you do seem a bit shaken up.”

More than a bit…

“Let’s get you back to the booth, get you a water.” The four of you headed back to the booth, and Cassian was just as you’d left him, still engaged in conversation with Eris. As you approached, Cassian’s face lit up with a grin, though there was a hint of playful teasing in his eyes.

“Look who finally decided to come back,” Cassian said as you slipped back into the booth beside him, his tone light but affectionate. “Were you having such a good time dancing with Helion that you don’t want to dance with me anymore?”

You felt a pang of guilt at his words, his playful tone contrasting sharply with all that’d happened. You moved closer to him, your heart aching as you took in his familiar, warm presence.

“Not at all,” you spoke softly, reaching out to take his hand. “I’m sorry for being gone so long. I missed you.”

Cassian’s expression softened as he looked at you, his eyes filled with warmth. “I missed you too,” he murmured into your hair, his voice low and sincere. He sounded stone-cold sober, how long had you been gone?

You closed your eyes, savoring the feel of his embrace, and you realized just how much you betrayed his trust, how much this would kill him. The guilt gnawed at you, a viper coiled tightly around your conscience, squeezing tighter with each passing moment. 

Cassian pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes with a gentle smile. “Let’s dance,” he said softly. “I want to make up for lost time.” He gently nudged you back out of the booth, his gaze softening as he looked at you, fingers gently brushing against your cheek. “I’ve missed my perfect girl.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Your body tensed, a wave of guilt crashing over you so intensely that you had to force yourself to keep breathing. For a moment, you couldn’t move, couldn’t respond, your mind flashing back to just minutes ago when Helion had whispered those exact words in your ear, his voice thick with lust.

Cassian noticed the slight hesitation, his brows knitting together in concern. “Hey,” he said, his tone softening even more, “you okay?”

You quickly forced a smile, willing the tension out of your body as you nodded. “Yeah,” you lied, your voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside you. “Just a little tired, I guess.”

His thumb stroked your cheek, his eyes filled with nothing but warmth and affection. “We can take it easy,” he offered, his concern evident. “Or we can just stay here and relax, whatever you want.”

But the thought of staying there, trapped in the booth with the weight of your betrayal pressing down on you, was unbearable. You shook your head, forcing a more genuine smile this time. “No, I want to dance,” you insisted, taking his hand and guiding him to the dance floor. “Let’s go.” But even as you both reached the middle of the floor and he pulled you flush against him, feeling his familiar warmth and the steady beat of the music around you, the words “perfect girl” echoed in your mind. 

The heat between you is immediate, electric. Cassian’s hands find your hips, guiding you as you start to move together, your bodies syncing effortlessly to the rhythm. His thigh slips between your legs, and you can’t help but grind against him, feeling the solid strength of his muscles beneath you.

His breath is hot against your ear as he leans in, voice low and teasing. “You feel so good, baby. Just how I like you.” His hands roam up and down your sides, fingers brushing the hem of your miniskirt, his touch making you shiver with anticipation.

As the beat picks up, Cassian’s grip tightens, his fingers edging further up your skirt. The movement is subtle, but it’s enough to make your breath catch. His dark eyes are locked on yours, filled with a hunger that sends a thrill through you.

He leans down, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he murmurs, “What’s this? No panties tonight?” His voice is laced with amusement, but there’s a rough edge to it that makes your heart race.

Your eyes widen slightly, and for a split second, you freeze, your mind flashing back to the rooftop. But you recover quickly, giving him a sultry smile as you tilt your head up to look at him.

“I couldn’t help myself.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Taglist <3

@bagelsharry @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @girl-math-aint-mathing @paleidiot @panther-girl-124 @secretIyhers @starlightazriel @uncxmfxrtablex

if anyone wants to be added just lmk :)

[catscidr]

// what's the difference between scotch and whisky anyways //

i. note — /edit/ i said i would fix the formatting later and Now is later hi hellooo. sorry for not posting, i suddenly couldnt bring myself to write for more than five minutes at a time lmaoa ദ്ദി ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ ) but i hope the dottore enjoyers like this at the very least. rn im working on chapter 3 of fbbts and a darker, separate dottore/reader one shot and a couple of jjk fics if anyone would even be interested in reading them lol. but in the meantime, here's drunken shenanigans ft everyone's favorite war criminal ii. includes — dottore x gn!reader, webttore (beta) and omega cameos. various mentioned harbingers iii. cw — fluff, crack sorta, alcohol stuff, dottore is ooc because he's Not Sober, everyone is clingy. fun stuff yk iv. wc — 3,5k -> ao3 link

It’s a popular stereotype that Snezhnayans are heavy drinkers, but the fact lies within the fatui. They’re shameless; whether it’s showing up to work inebriated or drinking on the job, they’ll hold onto the ‘snezhnayans have a high alcohol tolerance’ stereotype with clenched fists and a bottle at their lips. 

However, that fact only applies to the lackeys—agents that are stationed for hours on end without a break, agents that, at times, need liquid courage to face the horrors that come with the job. The Harbingers are an entirely different case. 

They balance each other, in a way. Where Tartaglia can down three shots of fire water and come out virtually unscathed, Damselette would rather not be caught within a hundred meters of a drop of alcohol. Where The Knave occasionally enjoys a glass of wine in her office, The Balladeer sneers at the choice of drink. 

None came together to go out for drinks, if not because of their job taking up a lot of time out of their days. No, none of the Harbingers were really close enough to let themselves be seen so vulnerable, if one dared drink themselves to the point of being unable to walk in a straight line. 

Thus, there had only been rumors circulating the halls of Zapolyarny palace. Hushed speculations spoken between coworkers, told with an air of excitement. No one has ever seen their Lords in a state other than wholly glorious, so it’s only human nature to wonder just what they would be like if their dignity were knocked down a peg—how they would be if they indulged in simple human vices. 

There are two kinds of Harbingers; ones that lack any rumors about their drinking habits, and ones that are so intriguing that if you were to strike up a conversation with a fatui agent, you would start theorizing about what kind of drunk they’re like before saying hello. Tartaglia and The Knave are part of the former, along with The Rooster and The Fair Lady. The latter consists of (unsurprisingly) The Balladeer, our sweet Damselette, and the two big shots at the top. 

Rumors of The Captain’s drinking habits are usually quite short-lived. People either have too much respect for him to speculate about something as childish as how he acts when he’s had too much to drink, or fear him too much to risk spreading rumors. 

But regarding The Doctor... 

It’s no secret that, even if he is eccentric and has a penchant for unconventional research methods, he has quite the loyal following. Agents will rally to defend him if they hear anyone slandering him, insisting that he’s reasonable and logical. ‘If you simply do your job, you have nothing to worry about’ is what they’d say. 

Although he’s amassed his fair share of fans within the fatui, they’re unlike The Captain’s loyal following; The Doctor’s subordinates are the first to whisper theories about their boss’ drinking habits. He’s only part human now, so maybe alcohol doesn’t affect him the way it does normal people like Tartaglia. Oh, but he seems the type to need to unwind occasionally, so maybe he has a secret stash of wine somewhere in his office? What if, in his free time, he creates various concoctions and cocktails to drink? 

Seeing as he understands science deeper than anyone else, mixology should be a walk in the park for a scientist as lucrative as him. 

Wrong. 

“Shouldn’t you be working?” 

The glare sent your way is nothing short of vicious. There stood in front of you one of his segments, the one with the infamous short fuse. “Why are you here?” 

You internalize the sigh you want to let out, deciding against making him mad when it seems he can’t even stand straight for longer than a few seconds. 

“Lord Pantalone dismissed me early.” You strategically omit why he let you go in the first place. “Where’s Prime?” 

As per anything retaining to Il Dottore, your relationship was unconventional at best. The term closest to what you were, if you wanted to describe said relationship, would be lovers—but... not quite? Still. Neither you nor Dottore cared enough to put a clear label on it, so you’ve resorted to letting people speculate— it can be quite entertaining to listen to people guess while being loud and wrong, anyways. 

You used to work under him as one of his many researchers. When you both started taking your relationship seriously, he threw in the idea of promoting you to being his personal assistant; that way he could (give you special treatment) have someone more competent than his last assistant take care of “menial tasks” like his tedious paperwork. 

You refused the generous offer, insisting that it would be unprofessional to work under him as his partner. After many late-night discussions (and stubborn headbutting of differing opinions) you both have come to an agreement in which you would work for Lord Pantalone as a financial planner. 

(You finally managed to convince him by bringing up how you could, hypothetically, pull some strings on your end in his favor—that you could persuade Pantalone to allot more funding for his research. If he had any shame left, it would have been embarrassing how quickly he shook your hand to accept your conditions.) 

Now, while you spent most of your time in an office in The Regrator’s office building near the Palace, you occasionally came by to drop off documents. Of course, you would use your short trips as an excuse to go see Dottore (even if you could do so at any time anyways, given how much authority he had.) 

However, sometimes you just want to work. 

You’ll leave the comfort of your cubicle to go see him and the extensions of himself, sure, but you still had a job to do. Papers piled up, clients grew impatient, and even your boss wasn’t immune to their nasty attitude whenever he held a meeting with a particularly irritating client. Thus, sometimes you wished you could truly focus, lose track of time and work until your wrist forced you to take a break. 

This wouldn't happen today, clearly. Seeing as one of Dottore’s lackeys rushed to your office to bring you to the Haeresys, you most likely won’t be seeing your desk until further notice. 

Now you were stuck with a cryptic Beta, trying your best to use what little knowledge about the clones’ machinery you managed to wring out of your stubborn lover. 

“Where’s Prime?” You run a hand over your wrinkled coat sleeve, keeping your voice calm and steady. Patient, else you’d be subjected to the segment’s indignation. 

“Dunno.” 

You sigh. Is he a scientist or a child? “You do know. Where is he?” 

“I told you I don’t know!” He throws his hands up, accidentally striking his mask in the way—effectively leaving it to rest at an angle on his face. Most of his mouth showed now, instead of the half you’re used to seeing. And the holes for the eyes don’t quite go where they should... 

Blinking, you take in the sight in front of you while he calms down. His crimson eyes were glassy, and his lips formed a permanent pout, vastly out of character for a segment that supposedly represented The Doctor at the most volatile stage of his life. Azure locks curled around his cheeks, though they were usually tucked out of the way. His clothes were all wrinkled, in a way that left you wondering if you shouldn’t tend to him instead. Dealing with his attitude is annoying, but it’ll be amusing to think about later, I guess. 

“Do you really not know...?” 

“No.” 

“Then, do you know why I was called to the lab?” 

“No. Yes... probably not. Uh,” he crosses his arms over his chest and loses his balance for just a second, “I think I do.” 

You raise an inquisitive brow, silently encouraging him to continue. 

“Give me a second.” Beta shuts his eyes, shoulders slumping. His mask was still crooked—you had half a mind to fix it, but held back the twitch in your fingers. After a few seconds he pipes up, uncrossing his arms to reach out to you. 

“Come.” 

The segment grabs your wrist and drags you into the hallways of the Palace, ignoring your yelp of surprise and the stares of various agents lingering in the halls. You pass by ornate statues and paintings, the sight more unfamiliar than not. 

“Beta, where are we-” 

“Hush, I can’t walk when you’re talking my ear off.” 

...Right. Something is definitely wrong. 

After about five minutes of running around like headless chickens you tug your arm back, making Beta turn around indignantly. You lift your hands up in front of you before he can speak. 

“Did you mean to bring me to Lady Signora’s office?” you ask, lips curled up into a small smile seeing his mask still laid crooked on his face. With a gentle hand you fix it, cold fingers grazing his burning cheek. 

“...” 

Beta’s brows furrow as he avoids your gaze, huffing dramatically. Poor guy, you mused. 

“Alright, let’s go to the lab, then. He must be there, right? Where was Prime last time you saw him?” 

“...his office, probably,” he murmurs. 

With a nod and a smile akin to someone doing some gentle parenting, you place a hand on his back and help guide him to Haeresys. The stairs were hard to walk down, but with just a bit of patience and a bit of Beta clutching your arm while shouting that you were trying to assassinate him, you make it down in one piece. 

You remove your gloves and place your palm into the scan, then input the lengthy password to open the laboratory’s large doors. They slide open, revealing the absence of normal researchers and noise. You spot Omega standing over the remains of a ruin machine with a clipboard in his hands and look back towards Beta. 

“Go sit, I’ll go ask Omega about Prime’s whereabouts.” 

The clone nods, trudging his legs along to lay down on the leather couch tucked away in the lab. 

As you put away your large coat and hang it up in the small rack near the doors and make your way towards Omega, you notice the slow rhythm of his handwriting—when he’s usually seemingly speedrunning writing down notes, he’s now leisurely writing away, unaware of your presence. 

“Omega.” 

The latter turns to you, masking his surprise with a small smile instead. “My dear,” he practically purrs, putting away the clipboard in a swift movement, placing the pen in his coat pocket. 

“I was alerted that something was... off, with Prime. Do you know where he is?” 

And where you thought Omega would pick up on Beta’s lack of decorum, you were sorely mistaken. The clone walks up to you with that same smile brightening his features, placing both hands on your shoulders oh so gently. 

“He’s in his office. But enough about him, I haven’t seen you in a while, beloved. Why must you keep me away from you?” he muses, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your cheek. You tilt your head to avoid being stabbed by his mask’s beak, raising your hands to press against his chest to make some distance. The action proved to be futile, of course. 

We saw each other yesterday, you murmur. “I’m sorry, I’ll get back to you in a moment, alright?” You offer him a warm smile in hopes that he’ll listen, seeing as he seemed to be quite... mushy. 

It works, and he lets you go with a curt nod, retreating to go... somewhere. You didn’t linger around long enough to figure it out, since you knew where to go now. 

Walking across the lab, you note how things seemed to be more out of place than usual. It couldn’t have been a researcher, they always had to clean up after themselves, courtesy of their boss. So, the mess had to be caused by them... 

You finally stand in front of his door, raising a fist to knock. A yelp leaves you as you’re whisked away, the door slamming shut just as quickly as it swung open. 

“Dottor-” 

“Can you fucking believe how inept these agents are? They dare speak to me with such disrespect after delivering the lousiest job I’ve ever seen.” Dottore rambles, pulling you deeper into his office. You observe the state of his workspace, namely the papers scattered onto the ground and the... bottlecap on the floor, right next to his trashcan filled with crumpled up paper...? 

“Showing up in the lab with their damn hands empty save for the half empty bottle of scotch they tried to hide. Idiots were too shitfaced to notice how I noticed.” 

“Okay, Dottore, what are you-” 

He gestures wildly as he speaks, his hands the only way for you to read him as his mask hid most of his features. The blue lines taunt you; though you’re tempted to take it off, you feel like he might just lunge at you if you did. 

“And then they had the gall to insist that the bottle was theirs when I confiscated it.” Dottore pushes you down to sit on the couch, a small oof leaving you in consequence. “Anything that enters this fucking lab belongs to me, I’m the boss, I decide what flies and what does not.” 

Absolutely unaware of your muffled giggles as you piece things together, he keeps ranting, turning his back to you as he stomps away towards his desk. “Not to mention these damn lackeys have had multiple warnings up until now,” he spits out. “Lord Harbinger, we’re sorry! We’ll clean up the lab to make up for this offense! Lord Harbinger, it won’t happen again! Who do they take me for, a moron?!” 

The higher pitch he uses to imitate (and make fun of) the agents almost makes you lose it. But you keep your composure, sitting demurely, listening. 

Dottore comes back with a bottle in hand, orange liquid swirling around the thick glass as he stumbles closer to where you sat. He joins you without warning, creating a dip in the sofa next to you—almost forcing you to lean onto him for support. His free arm drapes over the back as he sighs loudly, making you stifle a laugh behind your hand. 

A pregnant pause stretches between the two of you as his anger simmers down to embers. You lean forward, attempting to take a look at the label on the bottle in his hand. 

“What’re you holding there, love?” you ask sweetly. Glancing up you’re able to steal a peek at his eyes from underneath his dark mask—Archons was he absolutely gone. 

It takes him a second to respond, almost as if he forgot you were even there in the first place. 

“Whisky.” 

“I thought it was scotch.” 

“Same thing.” 

“No it isn’t.” 

“Yes it is.” 

“No it’s n-” 

“It is.” 

Maybe it wasn't the brightest thing to do, messing with him while he’s this inebriated. But it sure was entertaining. 

“Alright. Well, how much did you drink?” 

“A sip or two.” 

As if on cue, he brings the bottle up to his lips and takes a swig. Your grin widens, thoroughly entertained by the show; who else had the privilege of seeing The Doctor so drunk he could barely formulate something that made sense? 

You bring his attention back on you as you place a hand on his knee, leaning close. Dottore immediately snaps into place, gaze flickering down to your lips from the proximity. 

With a swift hand you grab the scotch from his hands, inspecting the amount still left in the bottle. If he said it was half empty when he confiscated it, then... 

“Dearest, did you drink a quarter of this bottle?” You're not even supposed to drink it straight from the bottle, either is what you wished to add, but seeing how defensive he was already, you figured it would just make things more complicated than they needed to be.

As if stung by the Tsaritsa’s delusion, he immediately stiffens and defends himself. “I did not, I told you I only had a sip.” 

The way his bottom lip jutted out was almost cute, if you dared to describe him in such a way. Compliments could wait though; you had answers to seek. 

“Mhm, a sip. Well,” you put the bottle down on a coaster on the coffee table and turn to face him properly, “what happened to the segments? They’re all a little... woozy.” Your fingers trail his arm, tracing circles in their wake. 

Dottore swallows, Adam's apple bobbing as he opens his mouth to speak. “We’re connected, albeit loosely. They could be affected by the few sips of scotch I drank, though I would have some work cut out for me if that were the case. I can’t let them be so weak after all.” 

The way he spoke sounded, for lack of better words, pouty. 

Was he... sulking? 

“And since we’re connected, I know you spoke to Beta ‘n Omega earlier.” 

He most definitely is. He's even slurring his words, now...

“Yeah? I was asking them where you were so I could check up on you, baby.” You chuckle softly, taking the liberty of putting his mask away. Bright, glassy red eyes stare down into you, and you hold back the urge to smother his face in kisses. 

“You didn’t have to talk to them, you could have just asked me.” 

“I was looking for you, so I couldn’t have.” 

“Why not?” 

You scoff, smiling as you adjust yourself on the couch. Dottore notices and takes the liberty of pushing you down, laying his head down so his ear is on your chest, cheek pressed up into you. “I’m sorry, I’ll ask you next time,” you respond. 

That satisfies him, enough to render him silent for a handful of seconds before he speaks up again. 

“...I need to get back to work,” he huffs. 

You bring a hand up and run it through his disheveled locks, careful not to tug at the small knots in the hair at the back of his neck. Twirling the hair of his mullet you hum, noting how his weight seemed to grow heavier as the seconds passed. No way is he going to get any work done if he falls asleep here. 

“Take a break, you deserve it. In the meantime, you can think of a suitable way to punish those stupid agents from earlier, right?” 

A quiet hum is all you get in response. You look down expecting to see his unnerving red eyes to be staring up at you, but you’re met with the sight of his features completely lax instead. Azure hair pools around his face, settling on your chest where his face rose in time with your breaths. 

You would have dimmed the lights and turned off his computer if you knew he was going to keep you hostage on the couch. Though you can’t really complain at the turn of events; it’s rare for Dottore to be the one to initiate skinship in the relationship. 

It was quiet, but you managed to hear the low dear? that left his lips. You hum, not wanting to speak as to not break the quiet atmosphere lulling you to a sense of peace. 

After a minute of silence, you decide to repeat yourself—this time a little louder than before. “What is it?” 

Another minute passes, just as quiet as the last. The sound of his slow, deep breaths fills the room, accompanied by the low scratches of your nails on his scalp. His hair parts where your fingers tread through it, and you quietly note that you should trim his hair soon. 

Il Dottore’s poor alcohol tolerance will always be a mystery to the public, because there’s no way you would ever let anyone in on the way he cuddles up to you when he’s had too much to drink. 

[lynn-tged-posting]

tged webtoon ep 165 spoilers and thoughts below the cut that im not terribly late on this time yippee!

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what if i went up to you and stared at you like this

HAHAHAHAHAAA I LOVE THIS PANEL SO SO MUCH

ive been sending this on like all my socmeds and to all my mutuals/irls. im tormenting them with it it's just so fucking cute and silly . puppy dog eyes javier. pleading emoji. he's just so fucking silly ALKJDFLSDKF HELL I MADE IT MY DISCORD PFP ITS SO GOOFY I LOVE IT SM HAHAHA CUTE CUTE CUTE

HAHAHAHAHHAHAHA

silly panels aside back to the top!

lloyd. stop hurting me oh god he looks so tired and gaunt and,,, lifeless. it HURTS seeing him like this, the life he once had just,,, stripped from him.

LIKE I WANTED TO SEE HIM WITH HIS HAIR DOWN AND MESSY BUT NOT LIKE THIS BRUH WHAT THE HELL SOB SOB SOB

the invitation oh my god. its so silly goofy but also so so personal its cute as hell its stupid looking but in the most affectionate way possible. the people of the estate really REALLY care about him and god idek if lloyd realizes that bc literally just after this, he apologizes to everyone for not being able to things for them anymore

not even able to get back up to get back to the bed GOD I FEEL SICK

but it doesnt matter anymore whether or not lloyd can still protect them, the estate has come to care for him so much , its not his protection they want they just fucking love him and he doesnt realize that i feel so fucking ill. lloyd i need you to open your eyes and look at this beautiful land, this beautiful home you've built with your own two hands. ITS NOT OVER YET PLEASE GOD ITS NOT OVER

and then lloyd without second thought chooses javier to live. because he really thinks hes just an extra getting in the way, a burden, a bug that shouldnt be there. so he thinks its fine if he, as a side character, is the one that dies SOMEONE PUNCH ME.

he looks so fucking SMALL. alone and in the dark IM GONNA EXPLODE INTO TEN BILLION PIECES. who wrote this fuckass program. SWEAR TO GOD IM COMIN DOWN TO FIX IT MYSELF GOD DAMMIT

AND THEN THE SYSTEM TEXTBOX COMING IN IM SO GRATEFUL PLEASE HELP HIM SOB SOB SOB

im super duper heartwarmed to see that whoever is running the blue textbox is on suho's side. it has never been impartial, huh,,, it just wants to see his wish come true. ooogh my heart.

lloyd looks,,, strangely peaceful here. is he like, paused rn? im not really sure what the system box is up to, but hopefully thisll delay anything from happening while javier is concocting his plan,,,

speaking of!

FATE KICKING IN LIKE TEN TIMES WORSE IS SO DAMN SCARY. THE MULTIPLE GIGATITANS OH GODDD im so fucking terrified. javier please hurry!!! he looks rlly cool on draggy here hehe

I THINK JAVIER AND ALICIAS EXCHANGE TOO IS SO FUCKING HILARIOUS. alicia, upon only seeing javier, immediately is suspicious of lloyd scheming something. she thinks the two of them are plotting again, hence the "what are you up to".

the problem is that it's just javier on this plan. there is no lloyd directing him, so javiers reaction is SO silly fun bc i. dont think he thinks of himself as being. scheming?? bc he seems SO confused at alicia's skepticism here HADLFKJSDLFKJ ITS SO FUNNY

I REALLY THINK JAVIER WAS GENUINELY A LITTLE CONFUSED AS TO WHY ALICIA WAS QUESTIONING HIM PLEAAASEEE

i think javier believes he's just going about business as usual. doing what he can to protect his lord, as he does, all the time, the usual. sure that involves getting an angel to ask the queen for the eye of summer, but that's certainly not plotting on the same scale that lloyd does. javier isnt a schemer. he just does whats necessary to protect the one he cares about the most. hence his goofy innocent puppy eyes, because its not like hes "up" to anything. idk how accurate this assessment is, so pls correct me if im wrong, but I LOVE IT A LOT HES JUST SO FUCKING DEDICATED I LOVE U JAVIER MVP!!!!!

and then raphie shows up yay!! EXCEPT HELP WHY DID HE GET SUCKED BACK IMMEDIATELY WHAT THE HELL he was so underprepared. poor guy. getting thrown around like this sob sob

ALICIA ASKING IF THIS IS SMTH JAVIER KNEW ABT OR IF THEY WERE PLANNING SOMETHING AND THEN JAVIER BEING GENUINELY FUCKING SHOCKED HELP MEEEE "maybe its not a prank...?" LMFAOOOOO

i mentioned this in the last ep post but like. again javier wears his heart on his sleeve he's so fucking protagonist its unreal. hell, not even on his sleeve, he has his heart out on his damn palm sob sob

i think he's shocked here bc he didnt expect raphaels call to play out like that, he prolly thought theyd issue it more seriously. the issue with this being so half-hearted is now alicia isnt absolutely certain that this is the will of the heavens, so she's less inclined to follow along. it doesnt help that her board of nobles (seriously why does she keep these bozos around they just keep yapping) are arguing back and forth abt whether or not to listen. this is kind of a little wrench in the smoothness of the plan... everything now hinges on alicia's whim now.

anyway two more panels javier being menacing/blunt as hell and alicia thinking on her throne,,, god they are so fucking. awesome i love them so much

anyway that is ALL! for this week! the episode felt a little bit slow to be honest, but i think that's because the events of this ep are little things that build up to whats next, so i dont mind it at all (especially since the last couple of eps have been super fast lately)! i really really enjoy this buildup and im super excited to see what happens next,,,

see yall next week! lloyd please be okay! or ill cry! like for real!

[homosexualworkaccount]

The sequel fanfiction to A Bloody Concoction of Love and Admiration has officially been named! You’ll be able to read Lover, You Should've Come Over sometime early February or mid February depending on my schedule, don’t have much time to write with important assignments coming up that make up almost half my grades. Loving class rn (kill me) but the Johnshi brainrot persists!!

The fic is currently sitting at around 13,000 words with three full chapters written out (not edited sadly, keeping that towards the end once all chapters have been written) with two half written ones. Each chapter will be around 3000 words worth of a short story. Im aiming for the full fic to have a word count around 20,000 words but who knows what’ll happen :P

Updates about the progress of the fic will be posted every few days so I can update people interested in it :D original fic is linked below for anyone curious!!

[sadie-bug345]

gang as condiments🤨

i’m fr bored asf AND on my way to dinner so this type shit is on my mind rn🤷‍♀️🧌

ponyboy:

bro just screams ranch lover

and he the type to always talk abt how much he looooves ranch

like bro i like ranch too but im not drinking bottles like you are😭😭

hes actually so real for liking ranch though

W condiment 7/10

johnny:

this one was harder cause i think johnny is so chill

like bro couldn’t care less what sauce packets you give him for his chicken sandwich

but he prefers ketchup

classic, normal, AND widely available so all boxes are checked🤗

6/10 cause sometimes ketchup is too basic (plus johnny the type to forget to shake the bottle😧)

sodapop:

fry sauce fs

if yall don’t know it, it’s mayo and ketchup mixed together

IT SOUNDS BAD HEAR ME OUT

just try it okay🙏🙏

when soda feels a little quirky he’ll add some sriracha sauce and chefs it up

soda the type to make any mundane thing fun

to the point where he makes the WILDEST food concoctions just for laughs

but it gets to the point where it’s still funny but highly concerning 😟

darry:

now i hate to say this but bro probably likes yellow mustard🫢

he’s not super adamant about telling people but the gang makes fun of him SM

he always snaps back tho w some classy older sibling comeback

side note, he the typa guy to say “let’s fire up the grill😀” when it’s fourth of july and they’re having burgers and hot dogs

no hate tho🫡

2/10 i can’t condone the constant use of mustard

dally:

bbq sauce lover

which i mean he’s so real for that

pretends to not give a shit but we know he does🙄

thinks he acts as lowk as johnny w shit like this but if he gets a sandwich from someplace that messed up his order he’ll throw a total fit

”you seein’ this johnny? blech they put mayo all over my burger ‘stead of barbecue or somethin’ decent…what a dump..”

johnnys like “mhm🙄” *not even paying attention*

”maaaan you see this crime against humanity? what is this, huh?”

twos like “and YOU know a lot about crimes don’cha dal?”

dally kicks two bit in the shins under the table

8/10

two-bit:

realistically he likes honey mustard type sauces or none at all

but to fw people he’ll combine sauces and it’s actually so foul

my friend will do this and mix together ketchup and ranch to call it “kranch” and i tried it cause yolo and its death oml

once two gets the sauce packets just run cause he’s bouta fuck that place up💀💀

3/10 only redeemed by his genuine taste in sauces

steve:

lowk didn’t know what to put for him so if there’s any steve lovers out there lmk what you guys think he’d like‼️

but he seems like the type to like most sauces but he puts an ungodly amount on his food💀

like every fry has gotta be totally covered in ranch or smth

def the type to double dip a chip btw😟

anyways 5/10 not really sure to think 🤨

ANYWAYS ilysm always and request hcs, imagines, anything or if you wanna talk my messages are open!!

[ikkosu]

YAYYY ilove my littule hat u gave me :D i will cherish it <3 while im here, i want to mention that when you said human prowl and mermaid reader i blacked out for a moment and experienced a Thought so: consider, selkie reader. like.,,.! prowl taking your coat bc he wants u to stay with him... excuse me i need to lay face down on the floor -gourmet anon

*pulls you off the floor, shakes you by the shoulders* Man down! Man down!

ok, in all seriousness, i did some research because I didn't know what a selkie is (don't kill me) But omg!!! Cute seals 😭😭 are you telling me they can shapeshift into a human THEN into a seal? That's so adorable omg. And Prowl taking the coat is basically him just wanting selkie to be his lover. 🤨 A little selfish of him ok but, hey, kinda in character.

I actually have a mini fic in mind about this rn (like uhh five chapters at most?) But here's a snippet concocted on a whim because I love this idea so much

—THE half-crystalized water ripples back with a waver. Prowl's leaning over the ledge of the boat. Gloved hands, twitching, nose and ears red just like the veneer of his boots.

The winter isn't the most ideal kind of climate to scour for a dead body. The sky and the clouds might as well merge with the ether as one, sheathed of ivory white, tasteless and bland. Then again, it's not the most normal kind of murder he's faced with : dead body in the middle of the ocean, and all.

All he wants is to get this charade done and over with. It's not like the body will suddenly appear when he wants it to be, does it? It'll take more than a few weeks at most to map out the entire creek — that is, if the creatures down there haven't torn the body to pieces, already....

A cloud of air seethes through his teeth, frostbitten. His joints are locked. Fingers barely any pulse of warmth in it. His nose might as well pop off, by now. He'll have to head inside. Warm up before he can continue searching for another hour.

Prowl plods towards the end of the boat. As he's hauling up the rope, the sudden ire of the floorboards creaking made him stiffen. He halts. No. That can't be his boots. Can't be anyone else's, either.

There's nobody else, here.

Prowl swivels around.

All that were there on his left was a cliff-side, cloaked with snow. He could barely see the top because of the fog. On his right were silhouettes of valleys and trees galore.

Nothing in sight.

Another creak resounds. Prowl tilts his head to listen, eyes narrowed. Then, another creak. Another. And, many more.

Something must be under this boat.

Prowl let's out a startled grunt when the boat tips forward, launching him face first into the waters, immediately strangling him of air. It's a cold slap to his face and a quick pierce through the layers of his clothing.

Prowl claws upwards, reaching for the frayed ends of the rope that dawdled over the boat. But something is pulling him down.

Slick tendrils that curled around his leg, yanking him further into the abyss. And, one look at the visage below — what he's greeted with is not such a genial sight.

Yellow eyes, a face and fangs.

[pumpkinsy0]

papercut sick hcs??(im feeling vague rn)

most of these r if theyre both sick, just for funsies

•ik its bc they kissed while one of em was sick, they woke up and it hurt to swallow n they just sighed

•at some point when the other sneezes too much they dont even get a bless u, just some form of communication telling them to shut the hell up already

•if theyre both sick, aint shit gettin done, they barely eat, if they want to they take turns getting up but always bucker about it

•going into their room is the equivalent of lifting up a rock w bugs under it, they have that same exact stare of anticipation

•pls dont even hit em w a “yall ok??” bc obviously theyre not, theyre both agitated and will snap at anyone and each other at any given notice, its not personal, they just hate being sick and miss being able to smell

•all haitian families have that one nasty ass concoction their mom brewed up for when someones sick, and u already know the shepards have it, pony tried it, hated it, but he did feel a lil better!! basically organic steroids

•coconut water, orange juice, and gatorade r their saviors, between the two of them, they could def demolish 6 liters of each of these bad boys in a day, EASY

•curly loves how ponys voice sounds when hes sick/lost his voice but dude, aint shit attractive about this, ponys gonna rip his hair out at this rate, shits jot sweet curly ur not helping

•scolding each other for getting up and moving around too much is a constant occurrence, when theyre sick they age 30+ years n act like an old couple

•i just thought about pony having to use that machine when his asthma acts up, that loud ass thing, curlys tossing and turning waiting for it to stop

•pony probably sees johnny in curly whenever curlys sick, its just in the eyes, they both look so pathetic, it makes pony feels like he REALLY has to take care of curly

[pinkmoondoll9shihtzu]

Hello there 🙏🫶 I just want to share this rn with you..... 💌 Recently i have developed a crush on a girl. She is so wonderful and we talk every day & i feel so giddy LOL. I don't even know her face😭 I am so unsure over alot of things & it is both mortifying & exhilarating to experience .. & thats the fun if it..omg.. recently i feel like so many friends are having crushes i wonde r your thoughts on this..

also i forgot how to flirt entirely so i dnt even know if its noticeable to her at all that im interested that way since i havent been bold enough LOL any advice on signaling this to her is appreciated i feel like13 again likeso clumsy LOL its so exciting too omg wishing you a beautiful day when u reaD this i hope it;s fine to send this to u i know u like your inbox used as a confessional but i'm still shy HAHA

🙏🌞🫶🫧🌈

AWWW💞💞💞 happy for u Anon :]....Ues it seems lately many people have been finding new love, i noticed it too the past few weeks :o I've only had that feeling a handful of times over my life, its a special one cus it can be quite fleeting depending on how fast things move, treasure it🌟 altho W/ me and slimbo it lasted ages so by the end of it when we finally confessed love i was FRIED from haveing butterflies in my stomach for so long lol i was losing my marbles over it. anywyas--

Honeslty im BAD at flirting like. i have noooo idea how to make a move , slimbo n i both tried to keep it .pokerface. for years because we're like, i dont even know, we're stupid we were almost enemies for a while. there was a timespan where we were SOOOO competitive and whenever we tried to play games we'd fight so much and i'd end up crying LMAO im laugjing so hard typing this cus we're not even like that now. Like as soon as we got together we became the ultimate harmonious team of considerate affectionate lovers but the courting phase was such a trainwreck lmao. i love it like its beautiful it all worked out, but yeah i suck at flirting i am swagless in that position🧎‍♀️

Altho when it's irl i definitely at least try to Thot it Up, concoct minxy outfits , move in a charming way, one of my most successful tactics has been attempting to orchestrate accidental voyeuristic scenarios for them to catch in their peripherals lol. but you have to be reeeeally subtle to pull that one off ;] i guess mostly i just try to talk to them a lot !! and be thouggtful. send telepathic uncondtional love. SHOW THEM SONGS!!!!!!! if its an internet thing, maybe u can watch movies or youtube videos together. be inquisitive and ask her lots of questions ^_^ one thing that always drew me to slimbo is how curious they are and their #intellect.. But everyones different so just feel it out day by day thru communication💓💓💓

hhope that helpes in some way.. its ok to feel giddy and clumsy im sure ur crush just wants to get to know the most authentic -you- so dont stress too much about specifics ^u^ Enjoy your weekend love ~ ~ ~ P.M.d.9

[reionized]

absolutely LOSING it over what minor to pick PLS help and doing a bunch isnt an option unfortunately T_T

to give some background im currently a biochem/physical sciences (an odd concoction of physchem + stats + math) double major with an option to do a minor on top of that

current future plan is to get a masters in nanoscience/nanotech. but that is very much subject to change.

id highly appreciate some advice/unfiltered life stories from people who were in similar situations of being able to add extra words on diploma ahahaaaaaaaha 🦠💉🧫biology🦠💉🧫

-with my current course load i can basically get this minor through doing one singular class

-the con is that im already doing a biochem major so it feels a little bit pointless

-quite a few fourth year seminar courses im interested in, ex virology

📶💻⚙️stats📶💻⚙️

-smartest option on the list as machine learning and ai are very big tools across all fields im interested in (it will probably be more useful than my physical sciences major in the short run T_T)

-gives me an actual theoretical background bc rn my usage of neural networks is very much inputting random weights and hoping it works core

-im going to be doing a lot of stats in my computational physics class though so this may be a little repetitive but idk.

🌏🗺⛰applied climatology🌏🗺⛰

-if we are being super fr im more drawn to climate/environmental/field adjacent work rather than medical research

-but the way this continent is going i feel as if all of the climate job programs may shut down soon

-if im really feeling very antsy about this i can get a volunteer research position at a computational climate lab and achieve similar experience/stepping point

-parents are extreme climate change denialists and may not be too happy that $$$ are being spent on this one

would be happy with any stories that ppl have to share about the importance of minors to their life choices!!

[xodarling]

Big enough for some naughty actions with certain girls obviously... also dragons have two dicks, not just one;)

these are the girls btw im right and ur wrong

and i learned they do have two dicks im cooking up a concoction rn

[blurredout10]

Hey. I heard you like a lil...fruit. Have I got some fruit for you! 🍎🍍🍇

Unrelated: I'm allergic to pineapple. Or rather, sensitive to it. it tries to eat my insides. :(

call me pineapple the way im tryna eat your insides too 👅😌

🍎Is there anything you straight-up won't write?

- hmmm. I'll be 100% honest I don't really have anything that I won't write. there's certain ships that I'd steer clear thinking too hard about but trope and tag wise, im not big no no on anything.

🍍What kind of AUs do you like? Are there any AUs you hate or just generally have beef with?

- OH IM SO INVESTED IN DISNEY AUS RN. I love the lil bounce between fic/modern/fairytale hybrid concoction. makes the writing feel like you're watching everything with saturated sunglasses. it's so pretty. I love college/workplace AUs too omg. and mafia. and bookshop (😏). I never really got into the mermaidAU stuff tbh.

🍇Is there a particular scene/episode/book/etc that you want to just write a million fics about, over and over? Which one?

- omg. Dbh related would be that one chapter that Markus is in the junkyard. i love the feel of that chapter so much. it deserves SO MUCH attention. Non-dbh related would probably be (unsurprisingly but unhelpfully) jjk related when geto has his spiral. That's more for my docs tho😌

THANK YOU BABYGURL! ♥️🫂♥️ I love you so much♥️♥️♥️♥️